A Not So Simple Kind of Life
by DragonsAngel68
Summary: SEQUEL TO DRAGON AND ANGEL. Draco and Ginny return from their honeymoon ready to live happily ever after, but their vast differences in background and family values make for an interesting start to their married life. Add Draco's inexperience with pregn
1. A Black Silk Scarf

**_Disclaimer_**_: I don't own any of the characters you may recognize from the wonderful world of Harry Potter, they all belong to the revered JK Rowling; I just like to play with them a little._

**CHAPTER ONE**

**THE BLACK SILK SCARF**

A Portkey landed Draco and Ginny on the front lawn of Malfoy Manor, not far from the front doors. The benefits of being extremely wealthy was becoming ever more apparent to Ginny as they were able to arrange a direct Portkey home rather than go through the Ministry of Magic like other international travelers. Of course, it also helped that her future sister-in-law worked in the _Portkey Office and Apparation Test Center_ at the Ministry. Pansy had arranged their transport before they'd left and made sure they'd suffer no delays with either the British or French Ministries.

Draco's arms snaked around his wife's waist. "We're home."

"Yes we are." Ginny leaned into his strong frame. "I can't wait to see the kids."

"Let's go then!"

They ran up the front stairs, hand in hand, and as they approached the large doors opened to allow them entry.

"Wait!" Draco stopped dead just on the threshold of the house. "We have to do this properly."

"Draco, you don't—" Ginny's protest ended in a squeal as he scooped her into his arms.

"Yes, we do have to do this properly," Draco assured her as he carried her over the threshold.

Once in the foyer of the grand house, he didn't relinquish his hold on his wife. Instead he claimed her mouth in a deep, sensuous kiss. They were lost in the sensation of each other again, as they had been for the past two weeks.

"Mummy! Daddy! Mummy! Daddy!" The shrill squeals of the twins hurtling down the staircase penetrated their world.

Draco gently placed Ginny on her feet and they both opened their arms to capture their children. Drake ran straight to his mother and clung to her tightly, burying his head in her shoulder. Still squealing in a high pitch tone, Angel leapt into her father's arms.

"Angel, enough, sweetheart. I can't hear myself think," Draco pleaded good-naturedly.

"What did you bring me? What did you bring me?" Angel squealed, ignoring her father's pleas to adjust her pitch.

Their luggage had arrived earlier in the day and Angel had been quite put out when Narcissa suggested they wait for their parents before rummaging through for gifts.

"You'll have to wait and see," Ginny told her.

"But I want to know!"

"Angel, you'll wait until we've said hello properly," Draco said as they swapped children.

Narcissa was hovering on the landing watching the children greet their parents. The fortnight had been wonderful fun, but exhausting and she was very much looking forward to handing back the twins to their parents. She'd had some respite with a weekend trip to their godparents and a few days the week before with the Weasleys, however, she'd been going non-stop for almost a week now. It was so easy to forget how much energy two small children had.

"Mother!"

"Darlings." Narcissa drifted down the stairs. "You both look so rested."

"We've done nothing but relax the entire time," Draco admitted as he embraced her warmly.

"Ginevra, you're looking so well." Narcissa kissed the air around Ginny's cheeks. Her daughter-in-law was positively glowing.

"Thank you. Two weeks of being pampered was exactly what I needed."

"Shall we have some tea and you can tell me all about your honeymoon."

"Mother, where is Father?"

"Oh, he said something about the office at breakfast," Narcissa said over her shoulder as she walked off in the direction of the parlor.

The twins ran ahead, passing their grandmother and racing towards the summer parlor. Draco and Ginny followed, wrapped in one another. Draco knew this ritual of tea and gossip was inevitable, and he wouldn't deny his mother, but what he really wanted to do was race his wife upstairs and shag her senseless. Sweet memories of the past two weeks would have to suffice until he could get her alone again.

Tea was served the moment the family took their seats. Narcissa took a delicate sip from her cup then looked to the newlyweds expectantly.

"Tell me everything! What you did, where you ate... shopped... oh and your birthday, darling, did you have a good day?"

"Yes thank you, Mother. My birthday was exemplary."

"You enjoyed the extra little getaway location?"

"Very much."

"It's such a lovely little cove." Narcissa sighed happily. "Your father took me there last year—a surprise sabbatical he called it."

"Yeah—umm—Ginny mentioned you'd been there."

"It's so secluded."

Draco's eyes widened. He didn't like the dreamy tone his mother's voice had adopted and he had no desire to sit there while she reminisced over her time at the cove, most especially knowing how he and Ginny had occupied their time there.

"We did a ton of shopping as well," Ginny blurted. She hadn't missed Draco's discomfort and truly didn't want to explore Narcissa's memory of the location anymore than she'd been forced to when planning the getaway.

Narcissa snapped out of her reverie immediately. "Oh, do tell! What did you buy? From what stores? Draco did show you the best of the best in Saint Tropez—"

"Of course I did, Mother. Can't have a Malfoy wife shopping in a store not worthy of her patronage." Draco chuckled with amusement. If shopping were a wizarding sport, his mother would be the World Cup champion.

Ginny wasn't sure exactly what was going on, a shop was a shop in her opinion, and she didn't want to get into a discussion about whether a store was good enough or not. "The stores were wonderful. We bought so many clothes and so much for the twins."

Squeals of delight erupted from the two little ones upon hearing they definitely had gifts awaiting them.

Angel bounced in her chair. "What did you get us, Mummy?"

"Lots of things! We'll have a look after we've finished our tea." Truth be told, Ginny would have rather taken the children upstairs now than answer Narcissa's questions. There wasn't all that much to tell, unless she wanted to hear how often they'd shagged each day or where and she knew her mother in-law would rather live without that information. So as not to appear rude, Ginny went on to tell Narcissa about her purchases in detail. It turned out to be a safe subject as her mother-in-law approved of all the stores they'd visited and added her own memories of past purchases to the conversation.

"I think we'd best head up and get unpacked," Ginny suggested after quite some time. She knew it'd take a while to sort out the children's gifts and allow them the time to appreciate the presents properly.

"Yes, of course, and you'll be wanting a rest before dinner."

Ginny frowned at Narcissa quizzically. "Umm—no, I'm not tired."

"But you must look after yourself, dear, after all you are with child."

Ginny smiled warmly at Narcissa. "Actually, I've never felt better than I have this past week or so. I haven't been getting tired or in need of an afternoon sleep."

"You mustn't feel you have to keep going just because you're home now. I'm more than happy to watch the children if you're in need of some rest."

Ginny opened her mouth to reply and closed it again when Draco cleared his throat subtly. There was no point in trying to convince Narcissa she wasn't ailing from this pregnancy. "Thank you, I'll keep it in mind."

"Why don't we give these presents out in our sitting room?" Draco said as he stood. While the children squealed their delight, he helped Ginny to her feet. "Mother, we'll see you at dinner."

"Of course, darling, dinner will be served at the usual time."

Draco hung back as the twins each took one of Ginny's hands and all but dragged their mother from the parlor. He waited until they were out of sight before turning back to his mother. "Is the surprise for Ginny ready?"

"Yes, darling, they finished all of it yesterday. You're going to love what they've done!"

"Just as long as Ginny likes it; I won't care what it looks like."

"She will. I was with her when she voiced her initial ideas and I think we've managed to capture what she wanted."

"Excellent." Draco placed a light kiss on Narcissa's cheek. "Thank you, Mother."

"You're welcome, darling. You'd better get along before she notices you're not there."

Draco strode quickly from the room, hoping to catch up with his family before they reached the staircase and Ginny noticed he wasn't behind them. He couldn't be more pleased with the news his mother had just given him and he hoped Ginny would be as pleased to see what he'd arranged.

They were waiting at the foot of the stairs for him, all looking somewhat curious as to why it had taken him so long to get out of the parlor when there were presents to be opened.

"Sorry, love. You know how Mother is, she just had to have a private hug."

Ginny smiled warmly. "She could have done that in front of me."

"I know, but you know her, she wouldn't have thought it proper." Draco threaded his fingers through hers. "Are we going to open these gifts?"

The excited squeals of the twins almost drowned out Ginny's affirmative response.

With the children running ahead, the family made their way to Draco and Ginny's private sitting room. Ginny sat on the small couch with a child on either side of her while Draco entered their bedchamber. The trunk they'd purchased just for all the gifts they'd bought was just about bursting at the seams. Even shrinking charms had done little to assist in reducing their extra luggage. He returned with a large trunk, hoping it was the right one, and placed it in the middle of the floor.

"This is it, isn't it, Gin?"

"Yes, just that one."

"Good, I don't think I can lift another one that heavy."

Ginny eyed him somewhat dangerously. They'd already had the discussion about who was responsible for the amount of luggage they were bringing back — Draco had lost.

With a flick of his wand, Draco set the locks on the trunk to release. As he lifted the lid of the trunk the eyes of the twins lit up at all the brightly wrapped packages. "Ginny, did you put tags on any of these?"

"The ones wrapped in dragon paper are Drake's and the unicorn paper is Angel's."

"Of course," Draco mumbled selecting one of each type of wrapping.

Squeals of delight echoed through the small sitting room for the next half an hour as the twins opened gift after gift. Before long the trunk was empty and the room was strewn with torn gift wrapping, ribbon and discarded boxes. Toys, clothes and other trinkets were scattered everywhere. The children were re-examining all their new belongings, trying to decide what to play with first.

Draco had sat through the gift giving trying to think of a feasible excuse to escape for a few minutes. He wanted to check on the surprise he'd arranged for Ginny before he showed her. Though there was a certain element of danger in opening his mouth to voice the only viable idea he could come up with, he went ahead anyway. "Love, I might just pop down to the study and check my owls while the kids play... Give you a little bit on your own with them."

"Do you have to?"

"I really should," he expressed as regretfully as he could muster. "I won't be long. I just need to see what's waiting for me Monday morning."

Ginny looked disappointed, but she nodded her understanding. Her expression burned into his conscience as he left the sitting room. It was only a little white lie and he was almost convinced she'd be pleased when she saw what he'd arranged.

"Mummy, can you play with me?" Drake looked expectantly at her with the new Quidditch figurines clutched tightly in his small hands. They'd purchased the entire French team for him and he couldn't wait to play them against his English team.

"Yes, sweetheart. Why don't you get your Quidditch stadium?"

"Okay, but I'm England!" Drake raced from the sitting room before Ginny could reply.

"Mummy, aren't we going to have a tea party?" Angel had her newest baby doll cradled in her arms and her new silver tea service sitting nearby.

"Of course! While you're setting up your tea party I can play with Drake, then we can both join you for a lovely cup of tea."

"Drake doesn't like tea parties. He's _always_ rude to my guests."

"We'll just have to teach him some manners then," Ginny said with mock sincerity. "Can you set it up on your own?"

"I have to get the rest of my guests!" The little girl announced as she ran out of the room.

Ginny looked over to the veritable menagerie of stuffed animals Draco had insisted on buying her in France. If Angel brought in anymore of her "guests" they'd be overrun with inanimate creatures.

No sooner than had Angel left the room, Drake returned with Millie bringing up the rear. The servant was almost dwarfed by the large toy she had hovering just in front of her.

"Put it there," Drake demanded rudely, pointing at a position on the floor in front of the hearth.

"Drake! How dare you speak to Millie like that! Apologize now!"

"She's a servant," Drake stated apathetically.

"I don't care who she is, you do not speak to anyone in that manner. Apologize now or you won't be playing with your Quidditch game for a week."

"Sorry," the little wizard mumbled.

"Properly, Drake."

"But Grandfather said—"

"I don't care what your grandfather said, I'm your mother and I won't tolerate you speaking to anyone that way. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Mummy," Drake responded somewhat edgily.

"Apologize to Millie."

"Sorry for being rude, Millie."

The aged servant was clearly uncomfortable with her young master's request for forgiveness. It wasn't customary to hear such words from those she willingly served, no matter how they treated her. She bowed deeply in front of Drake then flicked her large eyes to his mother. "If that is all, Mistress, Miss Angel is summoning Millie."

"Yes, thank you, Millie." Ginny almost laughed aloud at the very obvious relief in the servant's eyes. "Drake, are you going to set the game up?"

"Uh huh." The little wizard nodded eagerly and set about positioning the figurines for the start of the game.

By the time Angel marched back into the room with Millie carrying several dolls and stuffed animals, the Quidditch game was well under way. The little witch offered her 'guests' seats then fussily went about setting up her tea set. When she was happy with everything, Angel looked to her mother expectantly.

"Mummy, are you coming to my tea party?"

"Just as soon as I catch the Snitch, sweetheart."

Angel tapped her foot impatiently, before turning her attention to her 'guests'. She made small talk in the same manner as she'd heard her grandmother do with her friends, and replying to the voiceless questions posed by her 'company' with a small tinkling laugh.

A triumphant shriek from Drake signaled the end of the game. Ginny had to admit he was very good. His strategies were fairly simple, but were well thought out and executed perfectly.

"Well done, darling."

Drake bounced up and down on the spot. "I won! I won!"

"Are you going to come to my tea party now?" Angel enquired hastily.

"Yes, of course, darling. Come on, Drake, it's time to put on our best manners."

The little boy's expression went from jubilant to miserable in an instant. "Can't we play another game?"

"No, honey, I promised Angel we'd join her after the game. Maybe Daddy will give you a game when he gets back."

"When is he coming back?"

"I don't know, sweetheart. I'm sure he won't be much longer." At least she hoped he wouldn't be much longer. She didn't appreciate Draco running out like he did at the first available moment.

"Can I go find him?"

"I'd rather you stayed here, Drake. Daddy will be back soon."

"Okay," Drake agreed miserably. "But I don't want to play tea parties."

"You don't have to play," Angel stated spitefully.

"Good, I won't!"

"Fine."

"Enough!" Ginny shook her head at her children. They were so different in personality sometimes that little spats like this were par for the course, but she still didn't like to hear their verbal sparring.

"Yes, Mummy," they answered together.

"Drake, why don't you play with something else until Daddy gets back and I'll have a tea party with Angel."

"Okay," the little boy said agreeably. Anything was better than being forced to play tea parties.

"Mummy, you have to come and sit here," Angel instructed.

"I'm coming." Ginny lifted herself off the floor and relaxed in the chair Angel had saved her.

"Tea?" Angel asked in a deliberately haughty voice.

Ginny had to bite the side of her mouth to keep from laughing. Angel was giving a flawless impression of Narcissa. "Thank you, tea would be lovely."

Angel poured the 'tea' into the delicate china cup. "Sugar?"

"No, thank you."

The little witch passed the teacup to her mother with precision. "Would you care for a pastry? I have them delivered from a French pat-pattis—place in Paris."

"They look so tempting. How can I possibly resist?" Ginny stated as she reached for one of the offered toy pastries.

Angel was the perfect hostess. She made small talk with all her 'guests' and ensured no cup ran dry. Ginny marveled at the change in her daughter's play habits. Her whole demeanor seemed to have matured, at least with when engaging in this particular activity.

"Daddy!" Drake jumped to his feet and ran to the door, where his father scooped him into his arms.

"Having fun, mate?"

"Will you play Quidditch with me?"

"I thought we might show Mummy a surprise I arranged for her."

"Surprise?" Drake looked confused just for a moment, then he whispered into Draco's ear.

Ginny watched the two wizards interact. She saw Draco nod then they both looked around at her with matching smirks. Surprise or not, they were up to something. Though how they'd managed to plan anything was beyond her. Since arriving home, Drake had only left her side for a few minutes to retrieve his Quidditch Stadium.

"What's going on?" Ginny asked carefully.

"We have a surprise for you," Draco admitted as he put Drake on his feet.

"Oh? Care to tell me?"

"I could, but I'd rather show you."

"All right. Where is it?"

Draco pulled a long black silk scarf from his pocket. "You'll have to put this on first."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want your surprise revealed until you're standing with it."

"So it's something I can touch?"

"Maybe," Draco responded evasively.

"How am I going to get to where ever it is if I can't see?"

"I'll guide you." Draco held the scarf up. "Now come over here so I can tie this on and take you to where I've stashed your surprise."

Ginny stood and moved across the sitting room to the only clear space in front of the door. "You can't bring the surprise to me?"

"I don't want to." Draco sounded like a petulant child as he turned her around gently.

The scarf came over her eyes, turning the world black. She could feel Draco knotting the fabric at the back of her head and when his hands fell away from her she felt quite vulnerable. Ginny pushed the feeling to the back of her mind immediately. It was silly to feel afraid just because her eyesight had been temporarily impaired.

"Can you see anything?"

"Not a thing."

Draco waved his hands around in front of Ginny's face. "Are you sure you can't see anything?"

"Positive!"

"Drake, take Mummy's hand. You can help me lead her to where we're going."

A small giggle from her side alerted Ginny to her son's presence before his small hand found hers. Next Draco's hand ran down her spine and settled in the small of her back. His other hand took her arm just above the elbow.

"Ready?"

"Yes!"

From somewhere behind her she could hear Angel giggling. Ginny's mind ran through the possibilities of what Draco's surprise might be as they guided her to the unknown destination, but she couldn't come up with anything that would demand this much fuss or excitement. She tried to map in her head where they were leading her, but after many turns and a flight of stairs she had to admit she was lost.

"Stop here," Draco whispered in her ear. "You two go stand over there, so you can see Mummy's face when we show her what we've done."

She felt Drake release her hand and heard both her children giggle with excitement as they moved away from her. Draco didn't lose contact with her as he moved to stand behind her. She could feel his large hands resting on her shoulders and his breath tickling her neck.

"I hope you like this."

"Are you going to let me see whatever it is now?"

"Of course." His hands moved to the scarf and began to undo the knot he'd secured it with. Just before he allowed the fine silk to fall from her eyes, he whispered, "Welcome home, love."

Ginny blinked a few times, allowing her eyes to adjust to the brightness of the room. She looked around trying to place where in the house they were, when it suddenly dawned on her — they were standing in the southern wing and this was the parlor Draco had wanted for the family, except it looked completely different now. The room had been tastefully decorated, giving it a light breezy feeling. The antique furniture had been replaced with more comfortable pieces better suited to a family with small children and all the heirlooms that had previously covered every available surface had vanished.

"Well?" Draco asked hesitantly.

"When? How?"

"I made the arrangements to have it done while we were away. You can change anything you don't like, but I thought it'd be nice to move into our own wing straight away."

"It's wonderful!"

"You like it?"

Her arms wrapped around his waist and she kissed him. "Yes, I wouldn't change a thing."

Draco relaxed a little. He'd been concerned about her reaction and whether he'd done the right thing or not, after all, he had told her it was her job to decorate their home. "There's more."

"More?"

"While the decorators were here I had them do all the rooms we'd need right away and a few extras."

"We were only gone two weeks."

Draco smirked. "It's amazing what they'll agree to if there's a bonus of several thousand Galleons on offer."

"You didn't use that hideous decorator, did you?"

"No. After the way she treated you, she's never getting another Knut out of this family and I believe Mother has spread the word to her friends as well, so she'll find it difficult to come across the work she was accustomed to from now on. I found someone else through some contacts I have and by looks of everything, they've followed my directives to the letter."

Ginny moved further into the room, examining the appointments and other, more personal, touches Draco had ordered. Family photographs adorned the walls and some of the shelves; small knick-knacks were placed here and there to brighten the room up; the patio held a table and chairs, along with some long lounges to relax on, it was the perfect setting for breakfast on fine days. She would never have thought the large room could feel so comfortable and inviting, but it had been so well done that she couldn't imagine considering any other room for the family now.

"Come on, I want to show you the rest of the wing," Draco said eagerly. "Just remember you can still change anything you want and there's still a lot of personal additions to be made."

"All right I'll remember, but if the rest of the rooms have been done as well as this one, I wouldn't dream of changing anything."

The playroom was just down the corridor from the family parlor. It was light and bright with storage cupboards lining two walls, and plenty of room to play. Comfortable chairs were around the fireplace with bookcases nearby. A Wizards' Chess table stood off to the side with a player's chair on either side of the board. The remainder of the room was understandably quite bare, as the children still had their toys in their rooms for the time being.

They wandered through the ground floor of the wing, taking their time to examine every room. Those the decorators hadn't touched had been cleaned thoroughly, de-cluttered of excessive furniture and the like, ready for use; very little remained to be done in any of the formal areas of the wing. The rooms were tastefully decorated centuries ago and although the furniture was dated, it was beautiful just the same.

The family dining room felt more like a formal room to Ginny, but she was at a loss as to what she could do to warm the area. The wood paneled room held a mahogany table large enough to comfortably seat fourteen. Twelve chairs had their seats upholstered with deep gold velvet and at either end of the table, fully upholstered larger chairs with armrests stood. The enormous sideboard was ornately carved and stocked with the finest bone china. Ginny knew it would never be as cozy as the Burrow's kitchen, but with no ideas coming to mind she decided she could live with that and besides it was the people who filled the room that brought warmth to the atmosphere, not the decor.

They wandered into Draco's study next. The room had been cleaned thoroughly, but the décor remained the same as it had been for many decades. Dark, heavy drapes admitted no light from the windows and when Draco flicked his wand towards the wall sconces, they flashed to life, casting an eerie glow over the room. It was definitely a man's room, with no hint that women even existed, let alone stepped foot in this room.

When the family had thoroughly explored the ground floor, Draco suggested they head upstairs. Pleased with Ginny's reaction thus far, he hoped the family living quarters met to her approval as well. Draco guided his family down the corridor and stopped at the end. He'd deliberately gone past the master suite at the head of the corridor, instead, going to the twins' rooms right at the end. Draco had thought about the location of their rooms long and hard. It stood to reason that Ginny would want their younger children closer to the master suite, in case there was a problem during the night, so logic dictated that the twins should have the rooms the greatest distance from the master suite. Wishful thinking may have played a part in his planning, because he was hoping to fill the rooms between the master suite and the twins' rooms with more of his children, if Ginny was willing of course.

"Whose rooms are we going to show first?"

"Mine!" Drake announced loudly before Angel could react.

With a grand flourish, Draco opened the double doors leading to his son's suite. It was decorated in an identical Quidditch theme to that of his rooms in the northern wing. The little wizard proudly informed his parents that he showed the decorators his other suite and told them to make this one the same.

Across the corridor, Angel's rooms were as beautiful as her rooms in the other wing. The little girl had attempted to convince the decorators and her grandmother that an entirely purple suite would be perfect, much to everyone's horror. It had come down to Lucius to talk his granddaughter into accepting that her suite would be decorated in an identical manner to that of her rooms in the northern wing. With the addition of some superfluous purple throw cushions on the furniture, the decorator had done an excellent job of keeping the room tasteful and at the same time pleasing the little witch who would live there.

Upon entering the master suite, Ginny was torn between looking around and hugging her husband with delight. The sitting room was decorated in a similar fashion to the first suite she stayed in at the manor, with burgundy hues and gold trim. It was a combination that made her feel warm and comfortable. The room was larger than Draco's old sitting room and held a full sized couch with two chairs around the fireplace. A mahogany coffee table sat in front of the couch and two smaller occasional tables sat beside the single chairs. Flowers softened the room further, along with some photographs of the children.

The bedroom followed a similar color scheme with soft burgundy walls, deep burgundy drapes and mahogany furniture. The bed draperies were translucent lengths of fabric in several shades from light to dark and, on the enormous bed, pillows in the same influence against a gold silk duvet, set it off perfectly. Two chairs around the hearth with a small coffee table gave the couple somewhere extra private to sit. A vanity table on the other side of the room already held golden hairbrushes and combs with Ginny's initials engraved upon them. French doors on either side of the bed led to a private balcony where a small table and two chairs were situated. There were four more doors leading off the main bedroom and Ginny was eager to explore each one. Two led to dressing rooms: one for Draco and one for herself. There were subtle differences in dressing rooms, but overall they were of the same design. Small things like the vanity in Ginny's dressing room was larger and the length of her hanging space had been extended, whereas much of Draco's hanging space was half the depth. The other doors led to private bathrooms or rather semi-private bathrooms. In each side there was an extra large shower, basin with large cupboards and a toilet, then the two rooms met in the middle with a bathtub large enough to be easily described as a swimming pool. The whole room was done in black marble with gold fixtures.

"The side closest to the bed is yours and I'll take the other, so I don't disturb you when I'm getting ready for work," Draco explained. "I thought about having two separate bathrooms, but I didn't know if you'd approve of that and there was the problem of who would get the bath."

"It's amazing, I love it all."

"Good, but remember you're free to change anything you want."

"I don't want to change a thing," Ginny responded honestly.

"Well the offer's there. Now I have another room to show you, if you're finished in here."

"Yes, lead on!"

"Wait here, I'll just make sure the kids are going to stay in their rooms until we're finished," Draco said. The rooms he had left to show his wife were for her only at this point and he wanted to show them off without having the twins' input.

Drake and Angel had decided to stay in their new rooms while their parents walked through their new living quarters. They'd both seen the rooms as they'd been decorated so there was nothing new to see as far as they were concerned.

"Are they all right?" Ginny asked as Draco walked back to her.

"Yes, they're fine. Both are planning where everything is going to go in their new rooms."

Ginny laughed. "God help the servants who get stuck moving them."

"Yes, well, I think that might happen when the children are otherwise occupied."

"It might be a good idea."

"Are you ready to see the next room?"

"Yes, where is it?"

"Right here."

They were standing at the next doorway along the corridor from the master suite. Draco opened the doors without explanation and stood back to allow Ginny entrance to the room. Unlike the other rooms he'd shown her, this one had not been fully decorated. The sitting room was bare apart from the fireplace and save for two pieces of furniture the bedroom was empty. An antique cradle and matching cot had been set up in opposing corners on the far side of the room. Both were exquisitely crafted and obviously family heirlooms given the Malfoy family crest worked into the wood of each piece.

"They were mine," Draco said softly from the doorway. "And before that my father's."

Ginny moved towards the cradle silently. Words just didn't seem enough to do the furniture justice. She remembered the two cradles the twins had used, though lovingly handcrafted by her father and brothers, they were a far cry from the perfect workmanship she saw before her now.

"If you'd rather new things for the baby that's not a problem," Draco continued quietly.

"No." Ginny tore her teary eyes from the cradle, turning to face her husband. "They're so beautiful."

Draco moved forward and took her in his arms. He held her tenderly for several minutes. "I didn't want to do too much in here, but I did have the bathroom and dressing room completed."

"Bathroom?" Ginny looked up at her husband, surprise more than evident in her eyes. "The baby has a bathroom?"

"Not just any bathroom, my love. A baby bathroom! Come I'll show you." Draco led her into the adjoining bathroom by the hand.

Ginny stared around in amazement. The bathroom had been designed specifically for caring for babies and toddlers. Along one wall there was a marble baby bath built into a wide bench. The space next to the bath was a change table and there were cupboards underneath for storage. On the other end of the bench was a small bathtub perfect for a toddler. Everything was at the perfect height for Ginny, she wouldn't be stretching too far or breaking her back when trying to bathe the baby. Another door led to a full-sized toilet pedestal for use by whoever was caring for the baby at the time.

"It's so perfect."

"You like it?"

"Yes!"

"Good, I had them use mother to gauge the height of everything and everyone put in ideas of what would be good to have in here."

"It's all wonderful." A tear slid silently down her cheek. "I never dreamed—"

"Hey, don't cry. I just want you to be happy." Draco kissed away the scant tears on her cheeks. "I want to give you everything," he whispered huskily.

"I am happy, so happy."

"I'm glad." He dipped his head and captured her mouth briefly. "Anything you want for the baby, you get it. The decorators are waiting for your instructions to complete the nursery. I just had them do the bathroom and dressing room."

"You did the dressing room as well?"

"Err—yeah. You can change anything you don't like or think won't work."

"I'm sure it's perfect," Ginny assured him. "Show me."

The dressing room was next to the bathroom. No space in the area had been wasted. Drawers and cupboards were numerous with hanging space above much of them. Another change table was built into the top of cupboards.

"Well?"

"It's amazing. If I didn't know better, I'd say you've done this before."

"The only thing I can take credit for is paying the bill. The decorators suggested all of this and Mother put forward a few ideas, I just agreed."

"Well, I'm glad you did."

"I have one last room to show you."

"Another?"

Draco nodded and took her hand, leading her from the baby's rooms. He didn't stop until he reached the parlor Ginny had put aside for herself. "The wing and even the nursery are for all of us. I wanted to do something just for you."

As the doors opened, Ginny gasped. She couldn't believe her eyes. Her parlor had been redecorated almost exactly how she had pictured the room. Lucius' great-grandmother's desk sat in front of a wall of bookshelves with a chair that matched perfectly and two visitors' chairs on the other side. Across the room, a chaise lounge and two armchairs were situated around the fireplace. The light floral fabrics matched the chairs at her desk and the small occasional tables scattered around the room blended perfectly with the antique desk. The walls had been papered in a soft plum satin with a delicate pattern of flowers embossed into the fabric. Window seats had been built into the two recesses that held the long panes of glass. Ginny wandered over to the closest window, the view was breathtaking.

"Do you like it?" Draco asked hesitantly.

"Yes, it's just how I pictured."

"Really?" This was the room that had caused him much anguish. He hadn't convinced himself he was doing the right thing by allowing the decorators to touch it without consulting his wife.

"Yes, really." Ginny walked back to her husband. "Thank you, it's perfect."

"I'm glad you like it."

"I love it."

"Father will be pleased his search through the manor for all the furniture wasn't a waste."

"I don't follow."

"Mother told me you loved the desk and father mentioned his great-grandfather had purchased the entire collection to go with the desk, so the search was on to find everything that had been scattered throughout the manor over the years."

"I must remember to thank him then."

"He's just happy to see the furniture put back into service. He was very fond of his great-grandmother or so I'm told." Draco placed a light kiss on her nose. "Now you just have to finish all the other rooms."

"You know I've been giving the other rooms some thought."

"Oh yes?"

"Yes and I've decided to leave those we won't be using on a regular basis as they are."

"But—"

"Let me finish," she said kissing his chest. "There's really nothing wrong with the rooms, especially now they've been cleaned properly, so they can stay as they are. We might change them later, but I've got enough to worry about without spending so much time on rooms we never use. I'll finish the nursery of course, but I'd much rather spend my time on other projects."

"As long as you're comfortable with that," Draco said uncertainly.

"I am." Ginny smiled confidently. "Any room we'll be using or decide to use will be redecorated, but the others can wait until I have the time or inclination."

"Okay, you're the mistress of the manor, so I'm not about to argue with you."

"I am, aren't I? Mistress of the manor?"

"Yes you are and you're going to do a brilliant job."

"So what happens with your parents now?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, the servants and— I don't really know."

"The house elves serve the family as a whole, but now they answer to me first rather than my father."

"Oh."

"And you're responsible for running the house — meal planning, cleaning schedules and the like. Mother is more than willing to assist you, so make sure you enlist her help. She's often told me it's not as easy as it looks."

Ginny nodded thoughtfully. "I guess it's a good thing I love this room so much. It looks like I'm going to be spending a lot of time in here."

"It's not that bad. I'll have Mother take you through everything next week."

"It's okay I'll—"

"She won't mind," Draco said quickly, cutting her off. He could only imagine what his father would think if the house stopped running as efficiently as it had for the past twenty-six years or so.

"I was going to say, I would ask her myself."

"Oh, all right. I'm just trying to help."

"I know and I appreciate it, but I have to stand on my own two feet at some stage."

Draco drew her against his chest. "Do you know what I think?"

"Tell me."

"I think you're going to make the best Mistress of Malfoy Manor ever."

Ginny examined his face for any hint of mirth, there was none. Draco was perfectly sincere. "You'd better not let your mother hear you say that."

"It wouldn't be terribly good for my health."

"No, it wouldn't."

"There are no portraits in here to tattle on me and you're not going to tell her."

"Not today."

"Good, I'd hate to die on my first night home." Draco kissed her deeply. He briefly wished they were still in Saint Tropez, lying in the sun with the real world banished to another dimension.

A loud crack interrupted his thoughts and he reluctantly withdrew from his pursuit of his wife's favor. Millie, the house elf, cowered before them.

"What?" Draco snapped.

"Millie is begging Master's forgiveness to be disturbing Master and Mistress. Old Mistress did say dinner is to be served at half past the hour."

"You will instruct the cook to hold dinner until we arrive in the dining room."

"As you wish, Master."

"And make sure the children are dressed for dinner."

"Young Master Drake and Miss Angelique is getting dressed now."

"Good. Dismissed."

Millie bowed low enough to scrape her nose on the floor before Disapparating.

"I guess we should dress for dinner," Ginny murmured.

"Yes, if we're too long Mother is likely to get upset."

"We can't have that."

"It wouldn't be pretty," Draco advised as he escorted Ginny from the wing. "I'll have the servants move our things while we eat dinner."

"Wouldn't it be better to wait until tomorrow?"

"Did you want to supervise the move?"

"No, I'm sure they're capable of doing it without me getting in the way. I just thought it's an awful lot to move in a short time."

"Nonsense, they'll have it done in no time and besides I want to stay in _our_ wing tonight."

They walked the remainder of the way back to the northern wing in comfortable silence. After quick showers they dressed for dinner and were on their way to the dining room. Draco had summoned Millie and instructed the servant to arrange the transfer of their belongings to the southern wing while they were at dinner.

"You realize we won't be dressing for dinner every night when we're eating in our own dining room," Ginny said as they negotiated the staircase.

"I thought you might bring that up at some stage."

"It's not practical, at least not with the kids."

"Love, it's fine. If you don't want to dress for dinner every night I'm not going to argue."

"Good."

"Of course we'll have to whenever we eat with my parents."

"Not if we're in our dining room."

A pained expression crossed Draco's features. "Gin, it's mostly for Mother's sake that we go to the trouble. She was brought up that way and it's so ingrained in her to do what's considered proper that she gets quite agitated when it doesn't happen."

"If we go to their dining room, we'll dress, but it they come to ours we won't, unless it's a special occasion," Ginny said firmly.

"Fine, we'll try it that way."

"There's no trying, Draco. That's how we're doing it."

"All right," Draco agreed quietly. He certainly wasn't going to incite an argument over something so trivial. All he could do was hope his mother didn't make a fuss when she discovered their lax mealtime attire. It wasn't that Narcissa wasn't open to relaxing her principles from time to time, but he knew she'd be upset to see him ignoring the protocols he'd been raised with altogether.

The dining room was abuzz with small voices when Draco and Ginny arrived. Drake and Angel were animatedly describing the gifts their parents had bought them in France to their attentive grandparents.

"Father, we didn't realize you were home." Draco released his hold on Ginny to greet his father.

Lucius stood as soon as he saw his son and daughter-in-law. "You were with the children. I thought it better to allow them some time with you both. Welcome home."

"Thank you."

Lucius nodded his acknowledgement before casting his mercurial gaze over his daughter in-law. "Ginevra, you're looking well rested."

"Thank you, Lucius. I'm very well rested."

"Shall we eat?" Narcissa threaded her arm through her son's. "I've had cook prepare your favorites as a welcome home and a belated celebration of your birthday."

"Thank you, Mother, that was very thoughtful."

"Oh nonsense, we missed celebrating your birthday and we must make amends."

Draco assisted his mother to take her seat and Lucius ensured Ginny was comfortable before striding to his own chair. As soon as Draco's backside touched his chair, house elves appeared ready to serve the evening meal.

Dinner passed with polite conversation. Talk was mostly focused on the newly redecorated wing and what Ginny's thoughts on the work done so far were. Lucius made general enquiries about their time on the French coast, but steered well clear of the special getaway he'd assisted his daughter-in-law in arranging for Draco's birthday. He didn't need to be told what the most preferable activity in the secluded spot was, even if Ginny hadn't fully realized when the arrangements were made.

After dessert had been served, the family retired to the parlor for a short time. Conversation had turned to the activities the children had been involved in over the last two weeks. Even though Draco and Ginny had been fully informed while they were away about what the twins were up to, there were some small excursions they hadn't known about, such as picnics, shopping and the like.

Lucius waited until there was a lull in the conversation to change the subject. He had just survived a fortnight of keeping the children entertained and did not particularly enjoy reliving the time, especially when much of the discussion was centered on insignificant matters that were of no consequence to anyone. "Draco, you are aware the children are required to commence their formal education no later than this September."

"September? I guess we need to give that some thought," Draco responded. He knew they had to begin this year, but as yet hadn't broached the subject with Ginny.

"It's all right, Lucius. Even if Draco hasn't thought about it, I have," Ginny said.

"Oh? And your plans?" Lucius regarded his daughter-in-law seriously. He wondered if she had any idea of what was expected in the way of education prior to commencing Hogwarts.

"I was home schooled and I'm going to do the same for the twins," Ginny informed him.

"Excellent," Lucius exclaimed. "I am pleased to hear I didn't have the schoolroom redecorated for nothing."

Ginny frowned. "Schoolroom?"

"We have a small schoolroom," Draco explained. "I was home schooled until I went to Hogwarts as well, so there's a room that resembles a classroom at the rear of the library."

Lucius cleared his throat to garner his son's attention. "I believe Professor Sutherland is still teaching."

Draco's eyes widened for a moment before turning very cold. "No. I won't allow him near my children."

"He is a fully qualified teacher and he did you no harm," Lucius countered.

"I disagree, Father," Draco responded solemnly. "I will find someone more _suitable_ myself."

"Who is Professor Sutherland?" Ginny looked between the two men. She was quite confused over the change in Draco's attitude.

"My old tutor. He was a monster," Draco growled.

"He was stern," Lucius contradicted.

"You have your opinion, Father, however, you never spent any time with the man."

"Why are we discussing your old tutor?" Ginny interrupted again.

"The twins need a tutor to begin their education and if we are to secure the services of someone competent we need to appoint that person sooner rather than later," Lucius informed her somewhat impatiently.

Ginny shook her head. "The twins don't need a tutor."

Lucius' patience was wearing thin very quickly. "And how are they to begin their education _without_ a teacher?"

"I'll teach them."

"You are not qualified to teach, Ginevra," Lucius pointed out.

"I was home schooled, in the _traditional_ sense. My mother taught us from the age of four or five until we went to Hogwarts and I plan to do the same for my children."

"Perhaps you'd like to explain how you endeavor to achieve that while caring for a newborn?" Lucius' tone had deteriorated to one of contempt.

"My mother _achieved_ that with relative ease and with many below schooling age. I don't see it as being a problem."

"I see, and what of your other duties?"

"Father—"

Ginny cut Draco off quickly. She wasn't about to allow Lucius to make her feel inadequate. It was her decision how the children were schooled not his. "What _other_ duties?"

"To begin with we can look at the running of the household. You are now the Mistress of the Manor and you do have an obligation to see the house is run in the fashion to which it has for centuries. Then there are the social obligations of your now elevated social status."

"Social obligations?" Ginny repeated.

"Yes, did Draco not inform you? You will be required to attend luncheons, tea parties, dinners and such for charity groups. Your activities reflect upon the company, either by earning us more contracts or damaging our reputation."

"Father!" Draco raised his voice to put a stop to this discussion for the time being. "Ginny and I are yet to discuss arrangements for the twins' education. As for the social obligations expected of the Malfoy women, given Ginny's current condition she'll not be taking too much on until well after the baby is born."

"I see," Lucius sneered. He could have predicted this attitude from his son. The man was far too protective of his bride. "And what of the company?"

"If the company can't survive without Ginny drinking tea with some supercilious old hags then it can be damned," Draco snarled as he stood up. "Drake, Angel, say goodnight. Gin, we'll retire to our own parlor after tucking the children into bed."

The twins bid goodnight as instructed and stood by the door waiting to go upstairs. Neither of them dared to disobey or linger in the room when both senior wizards of the family were angry.

Ginny spoke to Narcissa for a few moments, but Draco couldn't hear what was said between the women. His mother was most likely imploring Ginny not to think badly of Lucius for his opinions. Draco watched his wife bid Lucius a curt good evening before leaving the room with the twins. He waited until he was certain Ginny would be well out of earshot before confronting his father again.

"I will _not_ tolerate you speaking to my wife like that again."

"I was merely attempting to get her to see reason. She seems to be under the impression that she can do everything at once."

"It is my place to talk her around and get her to see reason, not yours."

"My apologies," Lucius drawled insincerely.

Draco glowered at his father. He knew it was useless to press the issue any further. His father wasn't sorry for his tone or anything he said to Ginny. He saw his diatribe as looking after the entire family, by ensuring the company would be well represented at functions. What Lucius didn't realize was that by trying to bully Ginny into doing as he wished, he'd most likely encouraged her to do the opposite just to spite him.

"Good night, Mother." Draco placed a kiss on Narcissa's cheek.

"Good night, darling."

Without another glance at his father, Draco strode from the room to join his family in their new home. He was thankful he'd had the servants move them this evening rather than tomorrow. The knowledge that it was unlikely that Ginny and Lucius would come face to face until he'd had the opportunity to talk to his wife was comforting. Draco knew Ginny hadn't even been worked up or angry, she appeared to be still trying to work out what was going on when Draco put a stop to the discussion. However, once she'd had time to think it over he knew her anger would develop. The notion that Lucius deserved all she would serve him nudged his conscience, but Draco still thought the best course of action was to put a stop to any further argument on the matter as soon as possible.

Draco found Ginny tucking the children into bed. He could hear them both complaining profusely as he neared their chambers, but as soon as he appeared in each room they quieted down, rolling over obediently to go sleep. When they were certain neither of the children would wander from their beds, Draco and Ginny ventured down to the family parlor.

Draco summoned a servant immediately. He ordered a pot of tea for Ginny and a large firewhisky for himself. They relaxed on one of the couches together with a heatless fire burning in the hearth, giving the room a cozy feel.

"What did Mother say to you before?"

"She just told me they had a charity luncheon to go to tomorrow so it was unlikely they'd see us before tomorrow evening."

"Was that all?"

"Yes, that was it."

Draco nodded thoughtfully. "I had words with Father after you left."

"I thought you might."

"He means well enough, but his method leaves much to be desired."

"So you agree with him? I shouldn't teach the twins?"

"It's not a matter of agreeing with him. What's important to me is that you don't overextend yourself. With the baby and the house to run you're going to be busy enough, add teaching the twins and you'll be exhausted."

"My mother did it and she was fine."

"Your mother didn't have a house this size to run and she couldn't afford a tutor," Draco pointed out gently. "Just this afternoon you said you'd be spending a lot of time in your study organizing the household."

"I know, I just always thought I'd be the one to teach the twins."

Draco smiled gently. He was getting through to her without having the discussion deteriorate into a heated debate. "Things aren't always as we envision, Gin. Sometimes we have to change our plans, whether we want to or not, because it's the right thing to do at the time."

Ginny sighed heavily. She knew he was right. She wouldn't have the time to educate the twins properly and would probably exhaust herself trying to do so. "So this tutor thing, how do we go about getting one?"

"We put the word out that we're looking for one and we see whose names pop up, then we create a short list of those to be offered interviews. From there we select someone who's not only qualified, but that we're comfortable with."

"What about the children? Don't they get a say in who they're comfortable with?"

"Good idea. We can eliminate anyone we're not comfortable with, then have the remainder meet with the twins to see how they react to them."

"Okay, when do we start?"

"I'll Floo Uncle Sev on Monday and see if he knows of anyone looking for a position. Word gets around fairly quickly and then the applications will start coming in."

"That's it? You make one Floo call?"

"Yes, pretty much. You see, Uncle Sev will contact anyone he considers good enough to teach my children and tell them to apply for the position. This way we only get good applicants or that's the theory at least."

"I can't believe I'm agreeing to this. Your father is going to be impossibly smug."

"No he won't and if he is, I'll deal with him. We're doing what's right for the children and for you; it's got nothing to do with his opinion."

"All right," Ginny answered skeptically.

"Enough of this talk. I'll sort it all out on Monday," Draco said emphatically. "Do you really like all the redecorating?"

"Yes, I love it and it's a relief to have it done. Thank you."

"You are most welcome." Draco kissed the top of her head. "You know we have a new bed to christen."

"We do," Ginny agreed. "And a new bathtub to try."

Draco jumped to his feet and pulled Ginny up to his chest. "What are we waiting for?"

They raced through the house, laughing and giggling loudly. Despite Draco's legs being somewhat longer than Ginny's, she was leading as they began their ascent of the staircase, so Draco pulled her back and kissed her deeply before taking off in the direction of their chambers, leaving her with weak knees on the stairs. It didn't take her long to recover and continue her pursuit. By the time they reached their chambers, they were laughing so hard they were breathless.

Rather than summon a servant to draw the bath, Ginny did it herself while Draco checked on the children. Like the Prefect's bath at Hogwarts, the enormous tub in their bathroom filled at an exceptional speed. As soon as she deemed the water deep enough, Ginny stripped off and entered the water. It was heavenly.

While she missed the privacy their honeymoon had afforded them, she was happy to be home. As her mind drifted over the events of the day the heated discussion with Lucius came back to haunt her. He had said she now had an elevated social position. Whether or not this was true, or even recognized if it were, was of no consequence to her. She was aware her life wasn't going to be the same as it was prior to her marriage. There were now expectations of her and it was blatantly obvious her father in-law would be the harshest judge of her conduct.

Her mind slowly became hazier and her thoughts grew more distorted as the heat of the bath relaxed her. Just before conscious thought abandoned her completely, she decided it didn't matter what others thought. She and Draco were happy and that was all that counted. In her eyes, her life was perfect. She was living a fairy tale, a dream from her childhood, the one that ended in happily ever after.

* * *

_**AUTHORS NOTES**_

_Huge thanks to Rainpuddle13 for her sensational beta skills, plot discussions and her brilliant idea for the fic title._


	2. Birthday Boy

**_Disclaimer_**_: I don't own any of the characters you may recognize from the wonderful world of Harry Potter, they all belong to the revered JK Rowling; I just like to play with them a little._

**CHAPTER TWO**

**BIRTHDAY BOY**

Ginny went through Angel's closets trying to find something appropriate for her to wear to lunch at the Burrow. Angel had thought a dress worth more than her entire wardrobe had been worth twelve months ago was appropriate for running around with her cousins and getting dirty. Despite the little girl's pleas, Ginny had immediately negated any idea of her wearing anything other than what she chose for her.

Her hand ran over outfit after expensive outfit, dismissing each in order. She suddenly stopped and pulled a dress from the wardrobe. Ginny blinked at it a couple of times before striding purposely from her daughter's rooms.

"Draco, what is this?"

"A dress."

"And what is it doing in Angel's room?"

"Looking at the size, I'd say because it's hers."

"Why?"

Draco eyed his wife cautiously. This had to be a trick question. It couldn't be anything else. He knew instinctively no matter how he answered her query he'd be in the wrong. "Err... because it won't fit you."

"Draco!"

"Ginny, what's the problem?"

"This dress."

"What about it?"

"This is the dress _your_ daughter destroyed the bridal shop for when I wouldn't buy it for her."

"It is?" Draco responded cautiously.

"Draco!"

"Ginny, I've never seen it before."

"Then where did it come from?"

"Maybe..." Draco was loath to finish his thought, but there was only one person who had seen the dress who would have bought it despite Angel's poor behavior that day.

"Maybe what?"

Sorry he'd not stopped himself before giving the impression that he had an idea, Draco cringed. It was too late not to finish his thought. "Mother."

"I told her no!"

"Ginny, she likes to see the kids happy—"

"They don't get to be happy when they behave like that, they get punished."

"Gin, calm down, love. Mother probably thought she was doing the right thing."

"By whom?"

This conversation was going nowhere good and at a rate that made Draco's head spin. He had to put a stop to it now and calm his wife down before she came into contact with his mother or he knew blood would fly. "Look, we'll just take it off of her and I'll have a word to Mother about her purchase later."

"Draco, she deliberately went behind my back."

"I know and I'll deal with her."

Ginny rolled her eyes. She had a fair idea what Draco's idea of dealing with his mother entailed — nothing that would actually change Narcissa's habits. "I'll talk to her."

"Gin, I—"

"I said I would deal with her."

Draco let out a frustrated groan. This could lead nowhere good. His mother was as headstrong, if not more so, than Ginny. If Narcissa thought she was doing the right thing, nothing or no one would be able to convince her otherwise. He debated following Ginny downstairs and being present while she confronted his mother, but thought the better of it — someone had to be around to clean up the mess that would almost surely be made by the two witches. He continued getting dressed and tried not to think about what might be happening on the floor below.

"Daddy?"

Draco looked to the doorway of his dressing room. "Yes, Princess?"

"Mummy was getting me something to wear."

"Oh—umm—I'll help you." He knew Ginny might not be back for a while and even when she did return it would probably be safer to keep her out of her daughter's closets. "Let's see if we can find something Mummy will approve of."

Upon entering his daughter's dressing room, Draco could understand why Ginny might be upset, though the thought that only one dress had set her off was a little disturbing. The closets were almost overflowing with robes and dresses, most of which were yet to be worn. He knew Ginny hadn't purchased much of what now resided in his daughter's room and he had no doubt he'd be hearing from his father sooner or later over the missing Galleons in the vaults.

"We're looking for something that's not too good, yet still looks pretty... Right?"

"Uh huh."

"Okay."

Draco sighed as he reached out and began to move aside dress after dress. All seemed to have been made from the finest of fabrics and he was certain his wife wouldn't deem them appropriate for running around at her parents' property. He finally settled on a pretty pink dress with a large bow on the back. It was made of linen, but it was the only thing he could find that resembled casual wear or at least close to it.

"This one will have to do." Draco passed the dress to Angel, who promptly screwed her little nose up. "Just put it on, Angel."

"Yes, Daddy," the little witch agreed sulkily. She much preferred the dress she already on, it was lilac silk with a lace overlay and Grandfather had told her she looked positively beautiful when she wore it.

"Do you need any help?"

"Millie can help me."

"All right then, when you're ready come to my chambers."

"Okay."

On the way back to his own rooms, Draco checked on Drake's progress. The little boy was almost ready to leave, with only his boots missing from his feet. Draco knew there'd be no problem with whatever his son had chosen to wear, unless being _too_ scruffy was a problem. After leaving Drake with instructions to join him in the master chambers once he was ready, Draco continued to his own rooms.

When he entered their private sitting room, he could hear Ginny moving around the bedchamber and by the sounds of all the slamming down of items she was still irritated. He closed his eyes a moment and took a deep breath. The first thing he had to do was calm her down, and then he'd go looking for his mother's body, if his wife hadn't seen fit to dispose of it before coming back to their chambers.

With reluctance Draco entered the bedchamber. "Gin?"

"She's not here!"

"Who?"

"Narcissa!"

"Oh." Draco silently thanked whoever was watching over them. "Never mind, you can speak to her tonight."

"I wanted to get it settled now."

Even though he could have been risking his life, Draco gathered her in his arms. "Love, she's not here, so is it really worth holding onto all this anger?"

"I just—"

"I know. You wanted to get it sorted and you will, but it's going to have to wait. You can't speak to her if she's not here." He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Now, how about giving me a smile?"

"Draco, you're not going to—"

"I'm not doing anything. I just want to see you happy and there's no reason you can't be happy while you're waiting to see Mother."

Ginny rolled her eyes. The way this family could sweep problems under the carpet was astonishing.

"Come on, love. Your family is expecting to see you at least cheerful."

"All right." Ginny smiled briefly.

"Properly," Draco ordered.

She forced a grin again.

"You know, if you don't give me one of your award winning smiles this minute I might just have to snog one out of you."

"Oh?"

"Or better still, there's that little spot that never fails." Draco's mouth trailed down the side of her face to her neck. "It's around about here," he muttered as his mouth descended on the point between her neck and shoulder.

"Okay, you win," Ginny moaned. "I'm smiling."

Draco lifted his head to see if she was telling the truth. A sultry smirk graced her features and her eyes were just beginning to glaze over. "Just how I like to see you."

"Is that so?" Her arms wrapped around his neck.

"Mmm." Draco's head dipped to claim her lips ardently.

"I'm ready to go—ewww."

Draco rested his head on Ginny's forehead. "Drake's ready."

"So he said."

"I'll go check on Angel," Draco offered.

"I was going to find her something suitable to wear."

"All sorted, she was getting changed when I left her."

Ginny quirked an eyebrow at her husband, she had seen his idea of casual wear.

"I think you'll approve." Draco grinned at her. "Mind you, I couldn't find any of the clothes she'd usually wear to your parents' place."

"They're not in her closet?" Ginny hadn't made it all the way through Angel's clothes, and so hadn't noticed anything was missing.

"Nope, I couldn't find them. They could be still in her old room."

"I'll check tomorrow."

"It wouldn't be the end of the world if those clothes didn't show up," Draco ventured bravely. He would've loved to have left the twins' clothes at the Burrow when they moved into the manor and bought them both entirely new wardrobes. After all, neither of them needed to wear shabby hand-me-downs anymore. "Her closets are full to bursting."

"I know they're full, but she needs some older clothes to play in without fear of ruining them."

"All I'm saying is if they are gone it's nothing to get upset about and if she needs play clothes we can buy some."

Ginny looked at her husband curiously. "Do you know something about the missing clothes?"

"No, love. I was the one who told you, remember?"

"Mmm."

"I just don't want you to upset yourself over some missing secondhand clothes." He placed a small kiss on her nose. "I'll go see if she's ready and then we'll leave."

"All right," Ginny muttered dubiously as Draco hurried from the room.

She wasn't convinced he knew nothing of the missing clothes, but without an admission from him it was unlikely she'd find proof of his guilt. He was right that it wasn't worth getting upset over, but she'd like to know what had happened to them if they were truly gone. Perhaps they had been left in Angel's old suite. Still she didn't have time to go searching now, so it would have to wait until tomorrow.

"Mummy, are we going soon?" Drake was eager to get to the Burrow and play with his cousins, plus there had been talk of a game of Quidditch planned for today.

"Yes, honey, just as soon as Angel is ready."

The little wizard sighed affectedly. "She always takes forever."

"Do not!" Angel protested as she walked in ahead of her father.

"Do too!" Drake countered.

"Enough," Draco snapped. "Are you ready, love?"

Ginny picked up her cloak and handbag. "Yes, let's go before we're late for lunch."

"Right, everyone down to the parlor in the north wing."

"What's wrong with our Floo?"

"It's not connected to the network yet. I'll take care of it first thing tomorrow morning."

"All right."

"Let's go, shall we. I do not want to learn first hand what your mother does to those who dare to be late for lunch."

Ginny laughed as the family walked downstairs. She knew her husband would likely expire where he stood if he ever witnessed Molly Weasley in full flight. Even to those who knew her best, the matriarch was a very frightening sight when she took issue with someone.

* * *

As soon as Draco stepped out of the hearth in the front room of the Burrow and put Drake on his feet, the little boy took off in the direction of the kitchen without waiting for the customary cleaning charm to be performed to eradicate any soot from his clothes. Before Draco could call him back Ginny stepped out with Angel in her arms.

"Where's Drake?" Ginny asked absently as she drew her wand and allowed it to hover over Angel, cleaning the little girl from tip to toe before she ran off to find her cousins.

"Ran off as soon as we got here and he's got soot all over him."

"Catch up with him after we've said hello to everyone."

"All right, but you know he's going to be even more filthy by then."

"A little bit of dirt never killed anyone." Ginny laughed as her arms wove around his waist.

Draco sighed affectedly. She knew he hated to be dirty and to see his son running about filthy without a care just about drove him nutters. "All right, a little dirt never killed anyone... yet."

"Come on, we'd better go and say hello before Mum comes looking for us."

They knew the short stroll from the hearth to the kitchen would be the last of their peace and quiet until they returned to the manor. Despite wanting it to last for as long as possible, they found themselves standing in the kitchen doorway within seconds. As soon as they stepped over the threshold, Molly flew across the room to the couple.

"Ginny! Draco! Oh it's lovely to see both of you looking so rested."

"Hello, Mum."

"Molly."

"Happy birthday for last week, Draco." Molly placed a wet kiss on his cheek and hugged him tight before stepping back. "Did you have a good time? You must tell us everything."

"We don't want to know _everything_," Ron grumbled as he stalked into the kitchen.

Draco smirked at his brother-in-law and wrapped his arm possessively around his wife's waist, a move that earned him a seething look of disgust from the redheaded Auror.

"It was fantastic, Mum. We just relaxed most of the time."

"Wonderful! And you're feeling well?"

"Yes, I've been feeling great."

"No morning sickness?"

"Nope."

"With luck that's all behind you now," Molly clucked, patting Ginny's arm.

"I hope so," Draco mumbled.

"You'd best go and say hello to everyone. They're all dying to hear about your honeymoon." Molly bustled back to the hearth and continued with the meal preparations.

Within seconds of entering the yard, the family swallowed Ginny into its depths. Everyone was asking her about the honeymoon and complimenting her on how well she looked. Busy watching his wife interact with her family, Draco failed to notice her two oldest brothers wander over to flank him.

"She looks good," Charlie said quietly.

"Yeah, she needed the break," Draco agreed.

"So the honeymoon was good?" Bill queried.

Before he could stop it a wicked grin crept across Draco's face.

"If it was that good, you can keep the details to yourself," Charlie said quickly.

"We definitely don't want the particulars," Bill assured him seriously.

"If you guys are sure... I don't mind sharing," Draco teased.

Bill stood back and regarded his brother-in-law with mock surprise. "What's this?"

"He's come back all cocky." A dangerous smile had crept across Charlie's face.

"We might just have to remind him of what happens when our baby sister appears unreasonably happy." Bill nodded to himself as if to confirm his words in his own mind.

Draco laughed at the antics of the two wizards. "And risk making her miserable?"

"You see the thing is we'd be happy," Charlie informed him.

"Not for long and you both know it," Draco pointed out.

"I hate to admit it—" Bill dropped his hand onto his brother's shoulder. "But he has a point."

"Bloody hell, we never get to have any fun," Charlie groused with mock disappointment. "Jokes aside, it's great to see her looking so happy."

"I don't know if I can take all the credit. The holiday did her a world of good and her morning sickness seems to have resolved itself," Draco admitted.

Bill slapped Draco's back. "Doesn't matter how it happened, mate. She's looking great."

"Come on, boys. Lunch is on the table," Molly announced.

"Coming, Mum." Bill slapped Draco on the shoulder. "So are you ready for this, birthday boy?"

"My birthday was last week."

"And you were away, so you get to celebrate again," Charlie said with amusement.

"I thought this was just a normal Sunday lunch," Draco said hesitantly.

Charlie sniggered. "That was the day after your stag party. Today is just for you."

"Well aren't I the lucky one?" Draco didn't do a good job of hiding the sarcasm in his tone.

"It's not that bad, mate." Bill chuckled heartily. "You get waited on at lunch and you get to blow the candles out on your cake."

"Then there's presents to open," Charlie added.

Draco's eyes opened wide in horror. What could these people possibly have bought him?

Molly bustled over to the men and attached herself to Draco's arm. "Draco, dear, come and sit down."

Before he could frame a polite reply, Draco found himself being walked to the table. He glanced around for any sign of his wife and possibly a chance of rescue. Ginny was at the other end of the table fussing over the children and not aware of what her mother was subjecting him to or if she was, she was deliberately ignoring his plight.

"Sit down right here, dear," Molly clucked. "I've already served your lunch."

Draco dropped into the chair and stared in scarcely concealed horror at the plate before him. It was overflowing with food. Molly still thought he ate like her sons. If he made it through all of what was on the plate he knew he wouldn't be able to move for a week. "Thank you, Molly," he uttered without conviction.

"Eat up, dear. There's plenty more when you finish that." Molly patted his shoulder before hurrying down to encourage the children to eat heartily.

A few minutes later, Ginny sat in the chair next to Draco and began to serve a plate for herself. Her mother had chastised her thoroughly for fussing over the children and not taking care of herself.

Lunch passed in its usual noisy fashion with many loud conversations going on around the table as the family ate. The children ate quickly under grandma's watchful gaze and then ran off to continue playing.

"Draco, are you up for a game of Quidditch?"

One of the twins was leaning across the table waiting for his reply. Draco still couldn't tell them apart. "Umm—sure, why not."

"Excellent!"

Charlie leaned over the table. "What are you up to, Fred?"

"Just seeing if Draco was up to a spot of flying."

"He's not on your team, so leave him alone," Bill said seriously.

"Why can't he be on our team?" George demanded.

"With Draco on our team we can at least have even numbers again. He can take Ginny's old position," Charlie informed them. "But if you want to discuss a trade we're willing to offer Percy for anyone else."

"No thanks," the twins answered in unison.

Draco observed the men debating his place on a team. The identical expressions of horror on the twins' faces stirred his curiosity and he leaned closer to Harry. "What's wrong with Percy?"

"Flying isn't exactly his forte," Harry whispered.

"What position do you play, Draco?" Charlie asked.

"Seeker."

Charlie's eyes narrowed a little. "Are you any good as a Chaser or Beater?"

"I've never really played either position."

"There's no time like the present." Charlie grinned.

"All right," Draco agreed hesitantly. He wasn't overly enamored with the idea of playing a different position, but he wouldn't argue with the point this time. "Whom am I playing with?"

"I'm the Seeker, Bill and you will be our Chasers and Beaters, and Percy can play keeper with back up from you and Bill."

Draco nodded thoughtfully. This was certainly going to be an interesting experience. "And our opposition?"

"Harry is Seeker, Ron is keeper and the twins are the Chasers and Beaters," Charlie informed him quickly. "I'd better get myself changed. Anya will hex me if I get dirty, we're going out to dinner later."

Draco smiled at his brother-in-law knowingly. It seemed all of the men had vanished inside to change into their Quidditch gear.

Ginny placed a bag on the table in front of Draco. "Your Quidditch gear."

"You knew?"

"I had a feeling the boys would want to get into the air today."

"My broom?"

"It's still in the broom shed."

"Of course."

"So you're taking my old position?"

"Sounds like it, but I've never played either position before."

"You'll be fine." Ginny lowered her voice before continuing, "Just keep a close eye on the goals as well, Percy can barely fly."

"What about the others?" Draco wasn't accustomed to losing and he wasn't about to get used to the idea either.

"They can play. Charlie was on the house team at Hogwarts."

"Really? How does he go against Potter?"

"He wins about half the time."

"Good." Draco smirked. "Well, I should go change."

"Need a hand?"

"As tempting as your offer is, your brothers would probably come looking for me when they noticed I wasn't in the air."

After placing a soft kiss on his wife's mouth, Draco entered the house. He passed Bill and Charlie in the doorway; both were already dressed in their Quidditch gear. The two wizards went directly to the broom shed, where they'd placed their respective rides as soon as they'd arrived that morning. With their boys getting older, it was perilous to leave broomsticks unattended for any length of time.

Draco made his way up to Ginny's old room quickly and changed into his Quidditch britches, jumper and boots. He left the room with his guards in hand. As odd as the four-against-four game sounded to him, he was looking forward to getting in the air and he had no doubt that most up there with him would be competitive.

He walked back through the kitchen, receiving a few more-than-appreciative glances from some of his sister-in-laws. Draco didn't miss the looks and all but ran through the back door with amused giggles following him into the yard. Ginny was busy clearing the table, so he headed for the broom shed first. He'd talk to her before he took to the air, and hopefully not in the presence of any other witches with roaming eyes.

"Draco, we got your broom," Bill told him as he approached.

"Everything all right, mate?" Charlie asked.

Draco threw a quick look over his shoulder to see if any eyes or worse, women, had followed him. "Yeah, everything is fine."

Charlie looked at him dubiously. "If you say so, but I've got to say I don't believe you. You look like you've seen a Dementor."

"I'm fine," Draco responded tightly. God only knew what the other men would do to him if they knew the way their wives were looking at him, not to mention how his own wife would react.

"Enough of this. He said he was fine." Bill passed Draco his broom. "We have to work out a plan of attack or they'll kill us up there."

Their heads came together as the three men began to talk tactics seriously. In five minutes Draco learned the weaknesses of the four opposing wizards. If only he'd been in possession of such titillating facts while at Hogwarts, the outcome of many games could have been vastly different.

"There's just something about men in Quidditch britches that makes my stomach flutter," Fleur whispered in Ginny's ear.

Ginny smiled knowingly as she glanced over at the men. There was something about the way Quidditch britches sat snuggly on their derrieres and defined their thighs that did something for her as well. She leaned against the table and appreciated the view until it was interrupted. Percy had walked over to the group of men and had stopped just behind Draco. There was nothing in the way his pants hung loosely from his backside that was in the least bit appealing.

The two women returned to clearing the table. They wanted to get the chores done as quickly as possible so they could watch the game.

"Ginny, dear, we'll have Draco's cake for afternoon tea," Molly said as she came out to collect more dirty dishes.

"That's fine, Mum. The boys are more interested in getting in the air at the moment and you know they'll be ravenous after the game."

"There's nothing like a bit of flying to give their appetites a healthy nudge," Molly agreed happily.

Ginny balanced a high stack of dirty dishes in her hands and walked into the house. Though there was a lot of cleaning still to be done with all the women pitching in everything would be back to normal in no time. She placed the stack on the sideboard for Anya, who was up to her elbows in suds.

"Is there much more?" Fleur asked.

"Just the serving dishes," Ginny answered.

"We should get you to bring a house elf with you," Angelina said half seriously.

"Don't let Draco hear you say that!" Ginny glanced out the kitchen window to make sure her husband was still near the broom shed and not within earshot. "All he'd need is a feasible excuse to not leave the house without an entourage of servants."

"You should let him bring as many as he wanted. It would save my hands." Anya held up her soapy, pruning hands.

While it was possible to charm the dishes to wash, with so many to do it was quicker to clean them manually, especially when there were so many hands around to help.

"You know we should make Ginny wash up," Fleur suggested cheekily. "Otherwise she might forget how."

"Once a month sounds fair," Anya agreed, drying her hands on a towel. "Sorry, Gin, I am going to have to get you to take over. My fingers are actually starting to hurt."

"All right, but someone will have to give Mum a hand with what's left on the table."

"Consider it done," Pansy responded on her way out the back door. She didn't mind helping with the post-lunch clean up as long as she didn't have to wash. There was no way she was gong to willingly damage her hands. "Molly, is this all that's left?"

"Yes, dear. What happened to Ginny?"

"Anya's hands are getting all wrinkly so Ginny's washing."

Molly tutted loudly to herself. Women these days didn't know the meaning of hard work. Not that she had any genuine complaints about her sons' wives, the girls always helped to clear the mess following a family meal.

Pansy picked up the stack of serving platters and returned to the kitchen. She didn't want to know what Molly was muttering about, because her opinion would have most probably been very different to that of the older witch.

"This is everything," Pansy announced as she unloaded the dishes on the table.

"Thank goodness," Ginny exclaimed. "One of these days we're going to sit out there with our feet up, belching and scratching our bits while the boys wash up."

Amused laughter filled the room.

"You do know we'd have to re-wash everything after they'd finished, because nothing would be clean enough," Katie said through her giggles.

"Not to mention how many _Reparo_ charms we'd have to cast," Angelina scoffed.

"Our wands would be worn out," Fleur added.

Ginny continued to wash while Hermione, Katie, Anya and Angelina dried, and Fleur, Penelope and Pansy put away. The women worked well together and in no time the kitchen was put back to rights. Molly flitted between the kitchen and the front room where the youngest members of the clan had been deposited while their mothers cleaned up and their fathers prepared for the Quidditch game.

When the Weasley matriarch declared all had been done, the girls made their way down to the field. Their husbands had wandered down sometime before them and were already in the air getting a feel for their brooms. The women settled on blankets at the edge of the field with the older children playing nearby. Molly had remained in the house with the babies and smaller children who were napping in various locations around the ramshackle house.

"So was Narcissa glad to see you?" Pansy asked curiously. She'd ran into the older witch in Diagon Alley one afternoon and noticed that the blonde didn't appear to be her usual poised self.

"She was yesterday, but the next time she sees me could very well change her mind."

Hermione leaned forward, concern clearly evident in her eyes. "Why? What happened?"

"Do you remember that dress Angel threw a tantrum over in the bridal shop?"

"Yes," Hermione replied cautiously, averting her gaze from her friend.

"I found it in Angel's closet this morning."

"Really?" Pansy exclaimed loudly. She hoped Ginny wouldn't look directly at Hermione until the woman had made some attempt to adjust her expression.

Ginny frowned at her friend's over exuberance. "Yeah," she muttered distractedly.

Hermione was looking anywhere but at her friend. The secret of the purchase had been nagging at her conscience for a long time. Now that Ginny had discovered the dress, she was caught between wanting to confess her prior knowledge and hoping her friend didn't find out that she was present when Narcissa bought the dress.

"So what are you going to do about the dress?" Pansy asked when Ginny's gazed began to wander in Hermione's direction.

"I'm going to tell Narcissa to return it," Ginny responded resolutely.

Pansy snorted with laughter. "Good luck!"

"If she doesn't, then I will."

"So when are you planning to go to Muggle London?"

"I might go— Hermione, are you all right?"

"Umm—I—err—You see—"

Pansy shook her head ever so slightly at the brown haired woman. "Hermione."

Ginny threw a hard look at Pansy that clearly conveyed an unveiled warning. "Hermione, what do you know about the dress?"

"You know—"

Pansy moved to block Hermione's view of Ginny. "Hermione, we don't need to get involved," she hissed.

"But we were there," Hermione replied none too quietly in a distressed tone.

"What?" Ginny's eyes were just about bulging they were open so wide. "You were there when Narcissa bought the dress?"

Pansy closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. This was not going to be pleasant. She turned to face a furious Ginny. "Yes, we were there. Narcissa bought the dress after you left the shop and had it delivered to the manor."

"And it never occurred to either of you to say anything?"

"I think she felt guilty for all the damage Angel caused," Hermione offered meekly.

"Guilty? _Bollocks!_ Narcissa Malfoy wouldn't recognize the feeling."

"Ginny, it's between you and Narcissa," Pansy said calmly. "We didn't feel it was appropriate to interfere."

"Pray tell, what is appropriate about buying a dress for a little girl when she throws a tantrum?"

Pansy's gaze dropped into her lap and Hermione concentrated her eyes on the men in the air. Neither witch could justify Narcissa's purchase or their silence for that matter.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Ginny muttered sardonically after a prolonged silence.

"We're really sorry, Ginny," Hermione said softly. "We should have told you."

Pansy stared in horror at Hermione. The woman just couldn't keep her mouth shut. They had _nothing_ to apologize for, _they_ hadn't gone against Ginny's wishes, and they _hadn't_ even lied for Narcissa, because Ginny had never posed the question. Now she felt obliged to say something. "It was wrong of us not to say something, but Narcissa requested our confidence."

"So, despite knowing my feelings on the matter, you agreed to keep her secret?"

Pansy cringed. Ginny's tone was dangerously accusatory and she knew it was with good reason.

"It was a difficult situation," Hermione reminded her friend. "All I wanted to do was get out of the shop."

"If it was such a difficult situation, how is it Narcissa had time to do a spot of shopping?" Ginny asked venomously.

"That's not fair," Pansy responded evenly. "We didn't buy the dress. We simply minded our own business. If you want to have a go at someone then Narcissa is your target. _Not_ Hermione and _not_ me."

Ginny watched as her friend and soon to be sister-in-law strode off towards the house. Shame filled her. Pansy was right; she had no business being angry with either of them. Narcissa was the one at fault.

Anya slid over to sit close to her youngest sister-in-law. "She's right you know."

"I know," Ginny admitted softly. "Hermione, I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have—"

"It's okay. I knew you'd be furious when you found out," Hermione admitted. "I did think Narcissa might save the dress for a special occasion or something and not just give it to her."

Ginny sighed heavily. "That's not how she thinks. You should see Angel's closets; they're full of new clothes that weren't there two weeks ago."

"She doesn't strike me as the type to mind what she's spending," Anya observed.

"No, but Draco did tell me Lucius does pull her into line if he feels she's spent too much."

Hermione laughed. "I'd love to see that."

"Yeah, I still haven't figured out who'd win that battle," Ginny admitted.

"Do you have the same arrangement with Draco?" Anya enquired.

Ginny nodded. "Pretty much, but I can't bring myself to just buy things for the sake of it."

"Well at least he'll never have a reason to tell you off," Hermione pointed out.

"Unless it's for not spending enough." Ginny laughed. "When we went shopping in Saint Tropez, he was always on at me to just buy something if I wanted it, but I couldn't get anything without weighing whether or not I actually needed it."

"Old habits die hard," Anya said quietly.

"He ended up doing most of the buying. In the end, if I looked mildly interested at something, he bought it before I could protest. So now I have all these things I don't really need."

"You should enjoy it. You've struggled forever and now is your time to just enjoy what money can buy without thinking twice about whether or not you can afford it," Anya assured her.

"I know and Draco tells me that all the time." Ginny sighed thoughtfully. It just wasn't in her makeup to spend frivolously. "I should go see Pansy. I need to apologize."

"For what?"

The voice from behind her made Ginny jump. "Oh, Pansy, I'm sorry for having a go at you. You were right, Narcissa is whom I'm angry with and I shouldn't have taken it out on you. Will you come back and sit with us?"

Pansy frowned in confusion. "I was coming back to sit down."

"I thought you went back to the house, because you were upset with me," Ginny admitted softly.

Pansy laughed lightly. "No, silly, you know I can't go longer than five minutes without visiting the lavatory."

"Oh, of course." Ginny didn't know whether to feel relieved or embarrassed. She should have remembered it took a lot more than just a few words to offend the black haired witch.

The women settled back to watch to remains of the game being played above their heads. Before long the Snitch appeared. Ginny caught sight of it seconds before either of the Seekers. She yearned to be up there handling the Quaffle, flying like her life depended upon the win. Of course there was no way the family would let her near a broom stick, let alone to play in a game and Draco would more than likely throw one of his infamous Malfoy tantrums at the mere suggestion. She was pulled from her thoughts by the shrieks of encouragement the women were sending to the men.

Harry and Charlie were streaking through the air at break neck speed, bumping each other in an attempt to unseat the other and gain the lead.

Hermione gasped loudly as Charlie sideswiped her husband hard enough to throw him several meters off course. While Harry was still recovering, Charlie's gloved hand closed around the Snitch and he let out a triumphant roar.

While the men were collecting the balls and returning to the ground, the women charmed their blankets to fold and waited for their partners to join them.

As soon as Charlie's feet touched the ground, Matthew was jumping all over him. The excited little boy was squealing with delight over his father's win. When Bill and Draco hit the ground they both congratulated Charlie on securing victory with a slap on the back before walking in the direction of their wives.

Percy came down and limped over to Penelope. He'd done little more than get a few blisters on his backside during the game. This was one of the few times he looked forward to his nephews growing up. Once the boys were old enough to mix it with the men, perhaps his brothers would stop insisting he play the ridiculous game.

Draco strutted over to Ginny with a big grin on his face. She was smiling softly at him and could tell, without asking, that he'd enjoyed the game. "Feel good?"

"Oh yeah, there's nothing quite like a good win." Draco draped an arm around her shoulder and leaned in close before adding in a whisper, "Especially when Potter is on the losing team."

"Draco!" Ginny slapped his chest playfully. "You're so wicked."

"And you love it," he growled softly.

Ginny's arm snaked around his waist, her hand settling on his backside. "It's a good thing I'm distracted at the moment."

"How so?"

"Do you think you can parade around here dressed like that and have me able to concentrate on anything other than how edible your arse looks?"

"Well I—" Draco paused and looked curiously at his wife. "What is it that turns usually respectable women into drooling, touchy, feely creatures the moment a pair of Quidditch britches appears?"

"I'm not sure, there's just something about them," Ginny admitted in a silky voice as her hand stroked his tight arse. "They drive me crazy."

"You and all the other women," Draco mumbled.

"What's that?"

"Nothing," Draco responded a little too quickly.

Ginny moved away a little so she could make eye contact. "What happened?"

"Nothing."

"Draco?"

"There were some looks when I first came downstairs," he admitted reluctantly. The notion that he could be opening a nasty can of worms if he said much more occurred to him as the words left his mouth.

"From who?"

Draco weighed up whether or not he should respond honestly. This whole situation could get ugly, very ugly.

"Draco?"

"Sister-in-laws," he uttered almost inaudibly.

Ginny arched an eyebrow at him and a cheeky smirk curled her lips. She suspected they'd done something due to his odd expression when he'd exited the house. "Well you are a sexy beast," she purred.

Loud laughter erupted from behind them and startled the couple. They spun around to find Harry and Ron just about doubled over. Draco sneered at them and they laughed even harder. Fred and George were standing just a short distance away, chuckling between themselves — something Draco had figured out was dangerous to anyone in the immediate vicinity.

"Oh, Fred, you're such a sexy beast," George said in a high-pitched voice.

"Don't be silly, you're far sexier than me," Fred insisted as he squeezed his twin's backside in an exaggerated parody of their sister's actions.

Harry and Ron were in hysterics, barely able to stand without assistance.

Ginny rolled her eyes at her brothers and took Draco's hand, leading him in the direction of the house. "I can't believe them!"

The expression on his wife's face stilled his lips. Draco knew just one wrong word would see him directly in the firing line of her temper. It was much better to let her fume about her relatives and not respond, even if the situation was tempting.

Upon entering the yard, the couple noticed the children were scattered throughout and Ginny calmed her ranting down to a dull roar. It seemed, with the promise of the birthday cake soon to be served none of the pint-sized witches or wizards were game enough to stray far from the kitchen, lest they miss out. Draco dropped his tall frame into a garden chair and pulled Ginny into his lap. He desperately wanted to have a quick shower and clean up, but Percy had beaten everyone to the bathroom with the help of Penelope.

"Ginny, dear, is everyone coming back to the house?" Molly asked as she placed a stack of sandwich plates on the table.

"Yes, Mum. The boys were just collecting the balls." She knew there was no point in mentioning the antics of her brothers. Her mother wouldn't see anything wrong with what they'd done and it would just serve to exasperate her further.

"Wonderful! When they get back we'll have Draco's cake."

"I'll give you a hand," Ginny offered.

"Everything is ready, dear. You stay with Draco and relax for a bit."

"If you're sure."

"Yes, yes, I've got everything ready," Molly assured her as she bustled back to the kitchen.

Soon enough bodies began to fill the yard again. The Quidditch equipment was dutifully put away in the broom shed and the men immediately began proclaiming their hunger. Their wait for afternoon tea was short lived as Molly appeared with Draco's birthday cake only moments later. With her grandchildren surrounding her, the journey to the table was slow.

"Gather around the table everyone," Molly called as she placed the cake in front of Draco. "Ginny told me you like chocolate cake, dear."

"Err— yes." Draco stared at the enormous slab cake. Any hint to the flavor was lost under a thick layer of bright green icing, so Draco had no choice but to take her word for it. Large uneven grayish script spelled out "Happy Birthday Draco" across the cake and the outer edges held twenty-five candles that were yet to be lit.

The family gathered around the end of the table where Draco and Ginny were sitting. Amused sniggers bounced around the group; all the men understood how embarrassing this ritual was, but none had ever plucked up the courage to complain to their mother. When Molly lit the candles, a discordant chorus of "Happy Birthday" was struck up somewhere in the crowd.

Draco could do nothing more than sit in his chair hoping his utter mortification wasn't glaringly obvious and wait for this latest Weasley family torture to be over. Ginny had slid off his knee at some point to stand just behind him. As the last strains of the traditional tune assaulted his ears, Draco leaned forward and began to blow out the candles. Three breaths later the last flame was extinguished and the family cheered. Draco sat back in his chair and tried not to make eye contact with anyone — it was one thing to do this as a child, but quite another when one turned twenty-five.

"Draco, dear, you must make a wish," Molly said as she passed him a long knife.

It seemed the torture was not yet over. He accepted the utensil and quickly plunged it into the cake, not bothering about whether he touched the bottom or not. Draco forced a smile for his mother-in-law's sake as more cheers filled the yard.

Before the noise had fully abated, Molly moved the cake over and began to cut large chunks off for everyone. The first piece went straight to Draco, much to his horror and the disgust of the children waiting impatiently by Molly's side.

"All of you can go and sit down or you won't be getting any of Uncle Draco's cake," Molly instructed firmly.

The children quickly parked their bottoms in the chairs closest to their grandma and unfortunately for Draco, he found himself surrounded by miniature Weasleys. The children watched every move Molly made with wide hungry eyes, but it wasn't until after the adults had been served that they got their cake.

"Uncle Draco?"

Draco blinked at the little redheaded witch for a moment. He was still getting accustomed to being called _Uncle_. While he had realized he would inherit various in-laws through his marriage, he forgotten that he'd also become an instant uncle many times over. "Yes— err."

"Britany," Angel whispered.

"Yes, Britany," he responded confidently.

"How old are you?"

Courtney began to giggle loudly. "He's old!"

Draco stared at the pint-sized witch. He wasn't old — far from it in fact. He was only twenty-five.

"Well, Uncle Draco?" Britany persisted seriously.

"I—err— Didn't your parents ever teach you that it's rude to talk about the age of others?"

"It's only rude to ask ladies," Angel pointed out. "Grandmother told me."

"She would see the difference," Draco mumbled. "Britany, why don't you finish your cake?"

"But aren't you going to answer me?"

"I really don't think it's an appropriate time to be discussing my age."

The little girl sighed heavily and returned to eating her cake.

Angel leaned over to Britany and whispered loud enough for all to hear, "Daddy's twenty-five."

Britany gasped. "That's old."

Angel nodded her acquiescence.

"I am not," Draco responded indignantly.

"Leave it, mate. You'll never convince them," Bill said as he rested a hand on Draco's shoulder. "They think I'm ancient."

"Ancient?"

"Yeah, so think yourself lucky you were just labeled old." Bill chuckled. "Interested in toasting your birthday with something a little more appealing than tea?"

"What did you have in mind?"

Bill leaned close to Draco's ear so Molly wouldn't overhear. "Drop or two of Odgen's."

"Now that does sound appealing."

"Thought it might. Come on, we'll put some distance between us and mum."

Draco frowned at his brother-in-law quizzically.

"Don't worry, she'll say something, she always does, but she doesn't really begrudge us a drink."

"You're sure?" Draco didn't relish finding himself on the wrong side of his mother-in-law again.

"Absolutely, come on."

At the other end of the table the men of the family had set themselves up nicely. The teacups the women had put in front of them were pushed aside to make way for tumblers of Firewhisky and the large bottle sitting in the middle of the men.

"Have fun with the kids?" Charlie asked.

"Oh yeah," Draco answered sarcastically.

George sniggered openly. "It's almost tradition that the birthday boy sits with the kids for cake."

"More like the kids sit with the cake and Mum never moves it far enough so they'll go away," Fred pointed out.

"So what were you dubbed?" Harry enquired with an amused smirk.

"Dubbed?" Draco gave the raven-haired wizard a perplexed look as he sat down.

"Old or ancient?"

"Old," Draco muttered into his tumbler.

"You got off lightly then," Ron suggested. "My last birthday they told me I was too old to get married and have kids now."

The men laughed loudly at the previous antics of the children. Over the last year they'd all fallen victim to being labeled old or similar.

"What _are_ you lot doing?" Molly shrieked. "Draco has presents to open!"

"We're just toasting his birthday, Mum," Bill responded bravely.

"It's only polite," Fred pointed out.

Molly shook her head as she walked away. "Any excuse to bend your elbows."

The boys sat swapping slightly guilty glances with one another in silence until George poked his tongue at Harry. Laughter once again filled the yard and not even a hard look from Molly settled the din.

Conversation eventually turned to the Quidditch season, as it always did when the men got together. Spirited debate grew ever louder as Draco disputed every positive claim concerning the Chudley Cannons. His refusal to consider the team capable of occupying anything other than the bottom rung on the ladder incensed Ron to the point where the redhead was almost incapable of coherent speech. Draco was having a wonderful time watching his brother-in-laws try to defend their beloved team and he was practically disappointed when Molly interrupted them.

"Before you boys have any more to drink, Draco has gifts to open," Molly told them in a tone that brokered no argument.

"Doesn't mean we can't enjoy a few during the unwrapping."

Whether the alcohol fueled his courage or he'd taken temporary leave of his senses, no one quite knew, but when Charlie dared to respond they all cringed.

Molly singled her second son out with a particularly dangerous look. Upon feeling his mother's eyes boring into him, Charlie had the good sense to lower his glass to the table and look sheepish.

Molly gave him a disgusted snort before softening her expression and looking at Draco. "The girls will bring your presents down here, dear."

"Thank you, Molly," Draco responded quickly with hardly a glance at the witch. He wasn't game enough to meet her eyes lest she vent her anger at him.

Ginny and Fleur brought Draco's gifts down to the end of the table and placed them beside him. He looked at the brightly wrapped packages dubiously. The thought of what these people could have bought still worried him.

"Draco, what did Ginny get you for your birthday?" Charlie asked. He knew his sister had spent a fair amount of time stressing over the perfect gift for her new husband.

"I—err—You really don't want to know," Draco stammered.

"It can't have been that bad," Ron said.

"I didn't say it was bad."

"Tell us then," Harry pressed.

Draco considered his options for a moment. He knew if he tried to tell them they wouldn't let him get far before complaining profusely. Before he opened his mouth, Draco had a quick look around for his wife. There was no doubt in his mind that she wouldn't want her brothers to suspect her capable of giving such a gift. Ginny had wandered back to the other end of the table to help the children. "All right, I'll tell you if you really want to know."

"We want to know," many voices confirmed.

"Okay." Draco leaned closer to the table, and in doing so, the other men followed. "I woke up on my birthday to an empty bed. Ginny had gone somewhere and left a note saying she'd be back soon, so I decided to get up. The moment my feet hit the floor 'Happy Birthday' started playing throughout the suite and this rose comes to sit right in my face. I grabbed the rose to get it out of my face — it's a Portkey."

The men were enraptured with the recount of his birthday thus far.

"Where did it take you?" Bill asked.

"I land on a beach. At first there's no one around... something I was thankful for."

"Why?" Ron enquired.

"Think about it... I'm on my honeymoon, I've just gotten out of bed." The confused look on Ron's face prompted Draco to continue. "Let's just say I wasn't exactly _dressed_ to be in public."

Ron's face screwed up in revulsion as comprehension dawned on him.

"Anyway this place is perfect. The water is clear blue, the sand is flawlessly white, there's a small hut and cliffs or ocean surround it entirely. I hear laughing behind me... I turn around to see my beautiful wife standing there in the tiniest black bikini and wrap."

"Yeah?" The twins were so enthralled by the tale they couldn't see what was about to come.

"So Ginny offers me—err, breakfast."

"Breakfast?" Ron repeated, clearly a bit confused.

Draco smirked wickedly. He couldn't believe how easy this was; surely they could see what he was about to say. "Yeah, you know... the best way to start the day."

Ron grinned broadly and nodded. "Bacon, eggs, sausages, maybe a bit of tomato."

Draco stared at the man who seemed to be just about to drown in his own bodily fluids. He couldn't understand what Pansy saw in the wizard, the man didn't appear to have an active brain cell in his head. "Umm— No."

"Don't tell me you prefer kippers and French toast," Ron said disgustedly.

Draco couldn't help but frown deeply at his brother in-law. The other men seemed to have caught on to the subtle hints, but still Ron was oblivious.

"You're going to have to spell it out for him," George advised.

Fred snorted with laughter. "Go on. I can't wait to see his face."

Draco looked to the other men and each nodded in turn. While he wasn't certain that such an open admission was good for his health, he did have to admit the expression on Ron's face was going to be priceless. "How do I put this? Your sister offered herself as breakfast."

"What? How can Ginny be break—" Ron stopped speaking abruptly. His eyes opened wide and his face went from red to purple instantaneously. "I—you—how—oh—" he spluttered.

The men fell about laughing raucously at Ron's expense, much to the wizard's utter disgust. Quizzical looks from the women and children were ignored as they fought to regain their composure.

"Thank Merlin you finally caught on, little brother," Bill choked out.

"We'd have had to kill him if he said much more," Charlie added.

"Deserves to die anyway," Ron muttered discordantly.

Fred slapped his youngest brother on the back. "Don't fret, mate, we'll get him... it's only a matter of time."

"What's only a matter of time?" Ginny demanded to know as she approached. She knew Fred was responding to something Ron had mumbled and gut instinct told her it concerned her husband.

"Nothing," Fred responded with as much innocence as he could muster.

"And why don't I believe you?"

"Because you never believe me," Fred countered.

Ginny rolled her eyes at him. She was getting nowhere fast with him and wasn't likely to discover the truth anytime soon. "I wonder why?" she mused aloud.

"Draco was just telling us about his birthday," Bill informed her.

"Oh—oh." Ginny flushed bright crimson even though her mind was screaming at her that her brothers couldn't possibly know, because Draco was still breathing.

"Private beach... very nice," Charlie commented. "So how long did the two of you spend there?"

"Umm—err—the day," Ginny stammered.

Bill nodded thoughtfully and grinned at his sister. "Draco said something about a black bikini."

"I—err—I bought it in Saint Tropez."

"Really?" Charlie said with ill-disguised amusement.

Ginny lifted her chin. She knew exactly what they were up to and she wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of humiliating her. "Yes, really. It was terribly overpriced for what it was and of course it never stayed on for long, but it was such a turn on to watch Draco's eyes glaze over just before he started tugging at the ties — I just couldn't help myself."

The boys looked awkwardly at each other and then to a very smug Draco. Not one of them could look at their sister. It wasn't that they didn't believe she was capable of deliberately conducting herself in a nefarious manner; just that if they thought on it for too long they'd lose their minds and blood would most definitely be spilled.

Ginny watched her brothers' reactions for a while. Pleased with their obvious discomfort, she turned her attention to Draco. "Mum said to go ahead and open your presents, love."

"Yeah, of course. I almost forgot about them," Draco admitted. He reached for the parcel on the top of the pile. "Are you staying here, Gin?"

"Yes, I'm staying." She sat in the chair next to him.

Draco smiled at his wife as he removed the card attached to the gift. It was from Percy and Penelope. Confident that nothing would harm him, Draco tore the paper off to reveal a leather bound book. As he turned it over in his hands several Ministry pamphlets fell to the ground. Ginny bent down to retrieve the brochures from under the table while Draco examined the book. It was titled _"Cataclysmic Cauldrons "._ Draco forced a smile in Percy's direction.

"There's some very useful information about the right cauldron to use for specific potions in that volume," Percy pompously informed everyone within earshot.

Draco nodded at him curtly, not quite able to force himself to say thank you. As if _he_ required advice on cauldrons or potions. His eyes almost left his head when Ginny passed the Ministry brochures back to him. While he couldn't have predicted what they may have contained, he certainly didn't expect what they were about — at least not for a gift. The uppermost brochure was titled _"Restricted Potion Ingredients – Are They Worth the Trouble?"._

"Just smile," Ginny urged almost silently.

Draco shook his head in a barely conceivable move. There was no way he was going to even acknowledge such a 'gift'.

"There's been quite a few additions to the banned ingredients register of late," Percy announced. "The least I can do is make sure _all_ family members comply."

Unable to ignore the man any longer, Draco turned his icy gaze on Percy. "I am aware of the recent changes to the Potions Register. My godfather keeps me fully informed. You remember him, don't you? He's a Potions Master and a Hogwarts Professor, no less."

"Draco, why don't you open this one next?" Ginny shoved another gift in his hands hoping it would deter him from saying anything more. "Here, Draco, open it."

He took the gift and removed the card with more force than was entirely necessary. This one was from Bill and Fleur. As he began to tear the paper away, he hoped it wouldn't be anything similar to Percy's effort. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth when the paper fell away to reveal a box containing a bottle of two-hundred-year aged Odgen's Old Firewhisky.

"Thank you," Draco expressed genuinely.

"You're welcome," Bill responded.

"We'll have to get together one night and open this," Draco suggested, holding the bottle up.

Bill grinned broadly. "I was hoping you might say that."

"We'll have dinner or something, then relax and enjoy this drop of heaven."

"You're on, just let me know when."

"I'll do that," Draco confirmed. "Which one is next, Gin?"

Ginny passed him another brightly wrapped gift. "This one."

With his confidence now high, Draco opened the card eagerly. "It's from your parents."

"Open it! I've no idea what anyone got you," Ginny urged.

Draco tore the paper off to uncover a photograph in a large wooden frame. His eyes bulged as he took in the subjects waving at him—the entire Weasley clan. Unable to think of a single thing to say without the use of a few choice expletives, he wisely kept his mouth closed.

"That's for your desk at the office, dear," Molly said over his shoulder. "It's important to keep your family close."

Draco schooled his features quickly and ran several responses though his head before turning to face his mother in-law. "Thank you, I have the perfect place for it."

Molly smiled happily at him. His response had pleased her and for that he was grateful. He did have the perfect place for the frame—the bottom drawer of his desk was reserved for items he wasn't courageous enough to permanently dispose of for one reason or another. There wasn't that much difference between on and in; was there? After all she did say it was for his desk.

Ginny held another gift out for him. "Open this one next. It's from Ron and Pansy."

"Thanks," he uttered, accepting the heavy parcel. He could only hope Pansy had done the shopping, because he shuddered to think what might be waiting for him if Ron had bothered.

Relief flooded through him when he saw the box under the paper: a desk set. He lifted the lid off carefully to reveal gleaming brass. It was tastefully done in a Quidditch theme with a paper weight in an oversized Snitch, quills shaped to look like broomsticks in a stand, ink wells that resembled hollowed out miniature Bludgers and his initials were engraved on each piece.

"Thank you, Pansy... Ron."

"You're welcome," Pansy smiled warmly at him from the comfort of her fiancé's lap.

"Yeah, enjoy," Ron muttered.

"It's going to look great on my desk," Draco continued as he examined the paperweight closely.

"At work?" Pansy asked.

"No, no at home. I've taken my grandfather's old study as a home office. I haven't had a chance to personalize any of the accessories in the room yet, so this is a brilliant start."

"I'm glad you like it so much," Pansy said feeling rather pleased with herself. "Because you know how difficult you are to buy for."

"Me?" Draco feigned innocence.

"Yes, you! You're bloody impossible."

"You must have me mixed up with someone else."

Pansy rolled her eyes at her old friend good-naturedly. "Open another present before I'm forced to tell you what I really think."

"Pushy bloody witch," Draco griped. "Who's next?"

"This one," Ginny announced as she passed the gift over.

Draco opened the card from Charlie and Anya, then the present. He was surprised to find a copy of _"Delve into Antediluvian Potions"_. It was a volume he'd wanted for some time, but had been unable to locate in London. "How did you know?"

"We were a bit stuck for ideas so Anya asked Severus what he thought and he told her you'd been trying to find that book," Charlie admitted.

"Thank you," Draco said sincerely as he flick through the first few pages.

"You're welcome," Charlie assured him. "Anya, it was the right one."

"Good, I was a bit worried I'd ordered the wrong book," Anya said as she wandered down.

"You can't read it now, Draco," Ginny chided when she noticed her husband had become somewhat absorbed in the book. "You've got two more presents to open."

"Okay." Draco placed the tome on the table. He'd love to spend the rest of the afternoon with his nose buried in the book, analyzing the earliest of potions, but that would be considered rude.

Ginny passed him a brightly wrapped box. "Here, this is from the twins, Angelina and Katie."

"You're going to love this," George assured him.

"It's the ultimate gift! No wizard should be without this little box of pleasure," Fred announced.

Given all the warnings Ginny had voiced about accepting anything from her twin brothers, Draco unwrapped the box with a great deal of reservation. He was waiting for something to jump out at him or attack or something just as silly, but nothing happened. A wooden box sat on the table, looking innocent enough, but still Draco hesitated before lifting the lid. Six small bottles were nestled on a velvet cushion within the box.

"What do you think?" George asked eagerly.

Draco frowned and looked up at the twins. Their expressions were a mixture of excitement and humor. "What is it?"

"Mate, you're now the proud owner of a _'Weasley's Surefire Rumpie Pumpie Kit'_," Fred declared.

"You're getting on now and we didn't want to think you might be missing out." George winked.

Draco gaped at the pair with open horror. What on earth made them think _he_, of all people, needed help in _that_ department?

"Take that first little bottle of gold, the _'Split Second Stiffy'_. One swig of that and you're rock hard, raring to go in seconds without worrying about all that silly foreplay stuff. It lasts anything from fifteen to forty-five minutes, depending on how good she is."

"The one next to it is _'Overtime On the Job'_. Just a couple of drops will keep you going all night long with no down time."

"_'Sleepy Schlong'_ is a particularly useful one. We've all had those times when she feels too good and we're reminded of our earliest experiences. This bottle dulls the sensation a bit and you can last heaps longer."

"Of course, there are blokes who suffer the opposite problem, so we developed the _'Todger Tonic'_. Mate, this makes a breath of air feel like a randy tart's mouth."

"We're particularly proud of the next bottle. You know it's impossible to use _Engorgio_ on a human — well we've developed a potion that will just target a selected area of the body. So for those blokes who weren't blessed with ample wands or who experience shrinkage with age, there's a self- improvement option."

"The last bottle is a _'Revitalization Tonic'_. After spending all night going at it you're going to need a helping hand to get through the work day."

"There's also a book underneath, written by us, outlining our success in the bedroom and giving some handy hints so you can reach the same level we have."

Draco had listened to the two men prattling on with ever increasing horror, disgust and shock. He was speechless. There were no words to express what he was feeling. His wife, however, appeared to be overly amused with the gift.

Ginny reached forward and plucked the _'Overtime On the Job' _from its velvety surrounds. "We'll have to try this one."

The twins swapped concerned glances. "There's just one other thing, because you're married to our sister and we have that no shagging her policy we'll be checking your supplies from time to time just to make sure none is missing."

Ginny snorted with laughter in a most unladylike fashion. "It's okay, darling, it's not like you need any of that rubbish, especially the _'Whopping Willy'_— Good Merlin! What would I do with you if you took that?"

Draco was caught between utter mortification and amusement as he took in the expressions of those sitting closest. While her brothers were trying to come to terms with what she'd said and form appropriate responses, Ginny shoved the last gift into his hands.

"Here open that while their brains are still calling their ears liars."

Draco accepted the parcel, grateful for the distraction. By the feel of it Harry and Hermione had bought him a book, not something that greatly surprised him. When the paper fell away, he was astounded not to see some academic tome that would gather dust on his shelves for the next hundred years, but a book titled _'Raising Magical Children Without Evoking Merlin's Wrath'_.

"It was Hermione's idea, but we both thought you might like a bit of unbiased advice," Harry said.

"Thanks," Draco mumbled as he began to scan the chapter titles.

"It takes you from birth to adulthood," Harry continued.

"It's great, thank you."

Ginny leaned over. She'd known it was a book, but the subject was a mystery. "What's it about?"

Draco held the tome up for his wife with a large grin. "It's an instruction manual for the twins."

She laughed lightly at him. "And what are you going to do when they do something that's not in the book."

Draco opened the book to a random page and pretended to read for a moment. "Ah, it says right here... in the event that your offspring commits an offence we have not provided a detailed scenario for, the matter should be referred to their mother post haste for her determination."

Ginny rolled her eyes at him and shook her head. She had a feeling there would be more than a few referrals to her in the coming years or at least until Draco found his confidence. "I'll put your presents inside."

"Just leave them there, love. They're not in anyone's way."

The family relaxed around the table for the remainder of the afternoon, while the children made the most of the opportunity to play with their cousins. When the sun began to dip low on the horizon the families began to say their goodbyes and disperse to their own homes.

Draco had just finished shaking hands with most of the men when Courtney appeared in front of him.

"Uncle Draco?"

"Yes." Draco bent down closer to the little girl. A move he questioned the moment he saw both her hands behind her back.

"I've got a present for you," Courtney whispered.

"Oh—umm—thank you."

As the little witch moved her hands around to the front, Draco fought the urge to cringe or run away. He could only imagine what she had in store for him.

Courtney held out a white daisy in her hand.

He stared at the innocent bloom momentarily before taking it. A smile had only just begun to curl the corners of his mouth when the little girl flung her arms around his neck.

"I still love you, Uncle Draco, even if you are old." Courtney placed a sloppy kiss on his cheek and returned to squeezing him to death.

Unsure as to what the appropriate response would be in such a situation, Draco squeaked out a thank you and waited for Bill to claim his daughter. The thought that Bill would be plucking his daughter from Draco's unconscious form did cross his mind as the little girl's grip tightened even more around his neck.

"Come on, Courtney. Say goodbye to Uncle Draco," Bill said.

"Bye, Uncle Draco," Courtney said obediently.

"See you next time, little one," Draco responded.

Bill waited until his daughter had joined his wife before turning back to Draco. "I think you've got a fan there."

"Yeah, I'm buggered if I know why."

"Kids give unconditionally, mate. You'll learn. Think about giving that book Harry and Hermione gave you a serious look."

"I intend to."

Bill nodded. "I guess we'll see you in a few weeks."

"If not before. You have to help me open that bottle of Odgen's," Draco reminded him.

"Of course, just let me know when and where. I'll make sure I'm there."

"I will," Draco promised as he shook Bill's hand.

Draco leaned back against the table and watched as Bill picked up Courtney on his way into the house to Floo home. Apart from a few forgettable moments, he'd enjoyed the day immensely. Most of the gifts he'd received weren't nearly as horrid as he'd imagined and some were quite exceptional. He looked at the daisy still in his hand. It was such a simple gesture from a small child, yet it warmed his heart in a way he'd never knew was possible. Although he'd never admit it openly, he was learning something new every day about his wife, children, being a family or being a member of a large family. Life was certainly going to be an interesting journey from here on.

* * *

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE**_

_Thanks to Rainpuddle13 for her amazing beta skills and plot discussions._

_Thank you to everyone who took the time to review!_


	3. Negotiations

**_Disclaimer_**_: I don't own any of the characters you may recognize from the wonderful world of Harry Potter, they all belong to the revered JK Rowling; I just like to play with them a little._

**CHAPTER THREE**

**NEGOTIATIONS**

Draco sat at the boardroom table pretending to listen to the company news of the last two weeks. Lucius had insisted on having this extraordinary meeting of department heads so the employees could become accustomed to reporting to him rather than his father. It was boring to say the least. His mind kept drifting to the stack of correspondence on his desk yet to be attended to and the contracts he had to check before leaving for the day.

One of the enormous doors cracked open a fraction and Draco's secretary peered through the small gap. The woman's eyes flicked nervously between Draco and Lucius.

"What is it?" Lucius snapped.

"Sorry for the intrusion, Mr. Malfoy, but there's a house elf in young Mr. Malfoy's office." The woman cast a pleading glance in Draco's direction. "It appears to be quite agitated."

"I'll see what this is about," Draco said quietly. He knew his secretary wouldn't have dared to earn the wrath of Lucius if it wasn't important.

"If you must," Lucius snarled in a low voice.

Draco exited the boardroom quickly. He could see Millie cowering beside his secretary's desk. In the short distance between the boardroom doors and his outer office, many reasons for the servant's presence in the office spun through his mind. He hoped none of his thoughts turned out to be true.

"Millie, why are you here?"

"Master, Millie is most upset. Mistress and Old Mistress is not happy with each other."

Draco's blood ran cold. He turned to his secretary. "If my father asks, tell him I've had to return home."

"Yes, sir." By the time the woman uttered the last word she was speaking to an empty room, her boss had Disapparated.

Draco arrived in the foyer of the manor with Millie right beside him.

"Where are they?"

"They was in the solarium when Millie went for Master."

Draco hurried in the direction of the solarium. His mother must have been watering the plants in the room, a chore she rather enjoyed most mornings, when whatever had gone wrong went wrong. As he neared the doorway he could hear Ginny's angry voice with growing clarity. The domed ceiling of the room gave it wonderful acoustic qualities, so all but the quietest conversations were broadcast into the corridor.

"I don't care, Narcissa. She's _my_ daughter and I said she _couldn't_ have that dress."

"It's only one little dress," Narcissa countered haughtily.

"_One_ little dress she destroyed a store for! How the _bloody hell_ am I supposed to teach her to behave, if you buy her whatever she wants despite what I say?"

"You're over-reacting."

"I'm _not!_ I'll tell you one last time—When I say no I mean _no!_"

"Honestly I fail—"

"Mother!" Draco said strongly, cutting his mother off effectively.

Narcissa rushed towards her son. "Draco, darling, Ginevra said—"

"Mother, I'm fully aware of why Ginny is upset," Draco told her gently, but firmly.

Narcissa stepped back, putting some distance between herself and Draco, upon seeing his expression. "You agree with her."

"Yes," Draco almost whispered. It pained him greatly to see the look of betrayal on his mother's porcelain features.

Ginny had opened her mouth to tell her mother-in-law that it didn't matter what Draco agreed with, this was her decision, her rules. She snapped it shut when she heard Draco's response.

Narcissa lifted her chin high. "Where is your father?"

"He's still at the office. He doesn't know what's going on."

"How did you find out?"

"Millie — she was worried about the tone of your discussion."

Narcissa's blue eyes narrowed venomously. "She did not have permission to leave the house!"

"Thank goodness she did."

"She needs to be punished."

"That is my decision, Mother," Draco reminded her firmly. He had no doubt his father would have punished the servant if it were still his decision.

Narcissa seemed to be at a loss for a moment or two, so Draco took advantage of the break to cast his gaze to his wife.

The fire that had been in her eyes when he first entered the room had all but extinguished. Her posture was still stiff, so her temper remained dangerous, but she was silent.

"Ginevra, explain to Mother what your expectations are concerning such purchases — reasonably." Draco turned to Narcissa. "Mother, you will listen without interrupting and you will respect _our_ decision without question."

Ginny waited until Draco looked at her again and nodded. "When I say the children can't have something I mean it. I do not appreciate finding the dress or toy or whatever weeks later in their rooms. You _know_ I'm opposed to them receiving everything they want just for the sake of it and I would appreciate being consulted before anything is bought."

The silence in the room was deafening for a moment.

"Mother?"

Narcissa sniffed affectedly. "Very well."

"Good, we'll leave you to your day then." Draco moved to kiss his mother's cheek, but Narcissa stepped away from him. "Ginny, I'll walk you back to our wing."

Ginny had no choice but to leave the room with her husband; Draco had a firm grip on her arm and his other hand was applying pressure to the small of her back. They walked in silence. Ginny was almost ashamed of her conduct. She'd gone to Narcissa this morning with full intentions of discussing the situation and her expectations amicably. However, the conversation had deteriorated quickly and she had found herself shrieking at her mother-in-law. Just as the couple reached the foyer, Lucius Apparated close to the front doors looking somewhat goaded.

"Ginny, go upstairs. I'll meet you in our chambers soon."

"But I—"

"Now, Ginevra."

She sighed loudly and ascended the stairs. There really was no point in arguing with him, at least not when he used that tone. Besides it was unlikely they'd say or do anything if she didn't go upstairs.

"Care to explain what's going on?" Lucius asked when Ginny was well out of sight.

Draco filled his father in on as much as he knew of the morning drama. As he spoke his father's expression darkened to a dangerous level.

"Your mother?"

"I left her in the solarium. She's all right."

"I hardly see how. Your mother is not accustomed to dealing with—"

"Mother is more than capable of fighting her own battles, Father, and you know it. When I arrived she hadn't conceded an inch."

"That's not really the point."

Draco sighed heavily. His father was right. Ginny shouldn't have spoken to his mother like that, no matter how right she thought she was at the time. "I know."

"Where were the children when all this was happening?"

"No idea. They weren't in the room."

"At least they didn't bare witness to the... the foolishness."

"Father, Ginny has a valid point. From what I heard, Angel all but destroyed the bridal shop, because Ginny wouldn't buy _that_ dress for her. In Ginny's opinion, Angel doesn't deserve the dress."

"And your opinion?"

"I agree with Ginny."

"I see."

"I'm going to head up and try to calm Ginny down. Maybe then I can convince her to apologise."

"Apologise?"

"I may agree with her view on the issue, but her method of getting her point across left a lot to be desired."

"Ah." For the first time Lucius really examined his son's expression. Draco was torn. He'd spent twenty-five years defending his mother and now his wife had taken up residence in an opposing camp, the man obviously didn't know which way to turn.

"Perhaps you could get mother to see reason," Draco continued hopefully.

"I doubt it, but I will try."

"Thank you."

Lucius watched his son climb the staircase. Draco's shoulders were slumped and his movement slow. It was as if he didn't want to confront his wife. Lucius didn't blame him; it was not going to be a pleasant morning. Lucius set off for the solarium at a measured pace. He was in no hurry to confront his own wife either.

He found Narcissa in the far corner of the glass room. She was staring out across the property, seemingly lost in thought.

"Cissa?"

"Oh, Lucius, it was only one little dress," Narcissa whispered as she flew to his welcoming arms, her blue eyes welling with tears.

"I know, dearest." Lucius stroked her back soothingly. "I know."

"If Ginevra could have seen how Angelique's face lit up when I gave it to her, she would understand."

"I doubt that greatly," Lucius muttered under his breath.

"And Draco — he agreed with her."

"Our son is torn, Cissa. On one hand there is you, who he has protected his entire life, and on the other there is his wife. A woman he vowed to protect just two weeks ago. It is a difficult situation for him."

"I hadn't realized," Narcissa whispered against her husband's chest.

"Do not worry yourself over something so trivial."

"But it is distressing Draco."

"It is something every man must work through himself. Do you remember the first time you had a disagreement with my mother?"

Narcissa refused to meet her husband's eyes. The first time she had dared to disagree with Lucius' mother over something she now considered trivial the spat had almost escalated into all out war.

"Perhaps you could show Ginevra the understanding my mother found so difficult to afford you," Lucius suggested gently. "Be the better woman."

She nodded slightly against his chest. Her own mother-in-law had treated her dreadfully for sometime over a simple change in the cleaning schedule. It had made the first few months of her marriage incredibly difficult. The memory of how horrid that time was for her gave Narcissa the strength to firmly decide she wouldn't allow this to come between Ginevra and herself. "I will apologise."

"Draco will be pleased."

"Not only for his sake," Narcissa responded firmly. "I remember what it was like— New mistress of the manor and at odds with the one person who can truly be of assistance. I'll go and make my apologies now."

"Draco is talking to Ginevra at the moment. Perhaps you should wait just a little while before intruding." Lucius wasn't certain his son would not be feeling his wife's wrath, especially after dismissing her in the foyer.

"Of course, they need their privacy," Narcissa agreed.

"Perhaps a cup of tea while we're waiting?"

"Of course, darling. Would you care for some pastries as well?"

"That would be lovely."

* * *

As Draco approached the master suite, his sense of dread increased. He knew resolution of the situation rested on his shoulders and it could get very messy if he made the slightest error.

Ginny was waiting for him on the balcony. Her back was stiff and her grasp on the railing was tight enough to turn her knuckles white. Not good signs for Draco.

"Where are the children?"

"Playroom," Ginny responded flatly without turning around.

"Good." If the twins were in their playroom, it meant they'd not overheard anything. "Do you want to tell me what happened?"

"I went to talk to your mother about the dress she bought for Angel."

"That part I guessed."

"She refused to see what she did was wrong. She kept telling me it was only a dress and I was overreacting."

"Gin, you have to remember mother doesn't see things the way you do."

"That's irrelevant! I made a decision concerning _our_ daughter and she deliberately disregarded it."

"All right, I know and I don't disagree with you."

"But?"

"But the way you spoke to her wasn't very constructive, was it?"

"It didn't start out like that. I just got so frustrated when she wouldn't admit she was wrong this time."

Draco nodded thoughtfully. "There's a method for getting mother to see things the way you want her to without causing an argument. Father is far better at it than I could hope to be, mostly because I get frustrated like you and end up losing my temper."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean for this to get so messy."

"It's not me you need to apologise to."

"You can't be serious!"

He took a deep breath. This is where negotiations became dangerous. The next words that fell from his mouth could endanger his comfortable life if he didn't gain her understanding of his position immediately. "Not only am I serious — I insist. She's my mother. I heard the way you were shrieking at her and I know if I spoke to your mother in the same way, I'd be expected to apologise after I'd recovered from whatever punishment your brothers put me through."

"_My_ mother would never do something like this."

"It's not about what she did. It's about how you dealt with the situation."

Ginny folded her arms stubbornly and glared at the space to the right of her husband's shoulder.

"Gin, I agree with you about the dress. Angel doesn't deserve what she wants when she behaves poorly." He moved forward and ran his hands down her arms in what he hoped would be a calming manner. "But I don't agree with how you dealt with the situation. Mother deserves the same respect from you as you expect me to pay your mother."

"I know and I'm sorry."

"It's nothing that can't be fixed with some well placed words."

"All right, I'll apologise," Ginny muttered begrudgingly. She knew she hadn't been wrong in what she said, even if the delivery could have done with a little work.

"Thank you."

"I may as well do it now." Ginny moved to step out of Draco's hands, but he wouldn't allow her to pull away.

"I love you," he uttered.

"I love you, too."

"If you calmly explain to mother why Angel shouldn't have received the dress without actually laying blame she might just see your point of view."

Ginny looked at her husband as if he'd taken leave of his senses. How on earth could she explain why this is so wrong without mentioning that Narcissa was at fault?

"It's not that hard," Draco continued. "Just focus on Angel, her behavior that day, and your reasons as to why she shouldn't receive any gifts as a result. The specific dress or the fact that mother bought doesn't have to be mentioned."

Uncharitable thoughts began roaming through Ginny's mind; it was no wonder her mother-in-law had trouble with the real world. Draco and Lucius shielded her from it completely. Even though there was no doubt in Ginny's mind that Narcissa could take whatever she dished out and return twice as much—she'd been doing fine until Draco showed up—she found herself nodding her acquiescence.

Draco kissed her forehead gently. "It'll work out. Mother will respect your decision and we won't have anymore problems."

Ginny found herself having to bite the inside of her mouth to keep from laughing. If Draco thought they were going to sail through cohabitation with his parents and not have any further problems he was delusional. She was under no illusion that there wouldn't be problems from time to time — it was how they dealt with them that was most important.

"Shall we see if Mother is still in the solarium?"

"We may as well," Ginny agreed. She knew Draco wouldn't return to work until he was sure all was peaceful at home.

Draco threaded his arm around her waist and led her back to the solarium. He whispered words of encouragement all the way, to which Ginny barely acknowledged. She knew he'd take her silence as a sign of nerves, but it wasn't the case. She simply didn't know how to respond without telling him to shut up. When they'd almost reached the doorway of the glass room, Draco stopped.

"Wait here a moment. I'll just make sure it's safe to enter."

"All right," Ginny murmured as her husband continued into the room alone.

Within seconds Draco was back at the doorway, beckoning her to come forward. Ginny took a deep breath, held her head a little higher and walked into the room.

Lucius and Narcissa were having morning tea at the intimate table in the far corner. Apart from a guarded expression in Narcissa's eyes, it was as if nothing had happened. The older witch smiled pleasantly enough and offered Ginny Lucius' now vacant chair.

"Thank you," Ginny mumbled as she took the offered chair.

Draco conjured two chairs and the men joined the women at the table. Without bothering to ask, Narcissa poured tea for the younger couple. Apart from the occasional chink of china all was silent. The atmosphere was becoming tenser by the second. Ginny couldn't think of anything to say, apart from blurting her apology to break the silence. Just as she placed her cup back on its saucer, Draco cleared his throat loudly. It startled her enough to cause her to lose her grip on the cup.

"Sorry," Ginny said quickly as she reached forward to right the teacup and mop up the mess.

"Quite all right," Narcissa responded tightly. "Leave the mess, the servants will take care of the menial duties."

Ginny drew away from the table, her hands falling into her lap. She watched as a servant appeared and charmed away the spilt tea. Once the table was clean again, Narcissa refreshed Ginny's tea.

More for something to do, Ginny reached forward to pick the cup up again. She stopped before her fingers closed around the delicate handle and sat back in her chair, her hands falling back into her lap.

"Is everything all right, Ginevra?" Narcissa enquired curiously.

"Yes—no. I—err—I owe you an apology. The way I spoke to you earlier was rude and I'm sorry."

Narcissa smiled condescendingly and reached to pat Ginny's hand. "Your apology is accepted, dear."

"Ginny, there was more you wanted to say, wasn't there?" Draco prompted.

"Umm—yes. I—" Ginny stopped abruptly as her train of thought completely vanished on her. She knew what she needed to say, but finding the right words was more difficult than it should have been. An uncomfortable silence once again filled the room.

"What Ginny was trying to say is this is about Angel," Draco started after sometime. He could see his wife struggling to find the right words to open and couldn't leave her to flounder any longer. "Mother, you must agree Angel's behavior was deplorable that day and Ginny has always punished such behavior, so she will learn from her errors, hopefully never to make the same mistake again. What concerns Ginny most is that now you've proven yourself to be a soft target, Angel is likely to conduct herself in an unladylike fashion to secure everything she wants from you. In short, Angel is not above taking advantage of your generous nature."

"I see," Narcissa said lightly. "What you must realize is Angel, and Drake for that matter, have no reason to act in a less than desirable manner for me just to obtain some material possession. I'm more than happy to buy them whatever their hearts desire."

"We're well aware of that, but in doing so it makes it most difficult for the person who does say no to them."

"Why would anyone deny the children?"

"Not everyone has Galleons to waste," Ginny mumbled.

"Ginny has a point. Not everyone is as lucky as we are."

"Very well, I will endeavor to curb my shopping."

"Thank you," Ginny smiled uncomfortably across the small table.

"Now that we have an understanding, perhaps we can close the subject for good," Lucius suggested.

"There's one more thing," Ginny began uncertainly. "The dress — I'd like it returned to the store."

"Quite impossible! You see Angel wore it to a garden party while you were away." The lie rolled off of Narcissa's tongue without so much as a hiccup. There was no way she would concede defeat entirely.

"Oh."

"Galor won't take it back," Narcissa reaffirmed. "Just this time why don't we let Angel keep the dress? It would be such a terrible waste if she couldn't and she does love it."

"Well I—"

"If only you could have see her face when I gave it to her, Ginevra. She lit up so brightly. I must admit seeing her so happy is very addicting."

"I like to see the children happy as well, but I don't compromise my values to satisfy my need to see them like that. It may be all right in the short term, but they don't learn to appreciate what they have, so in the end it's quite damaging." Ginny's words hung in the air for several minutes. She knew Narcissa just wanted to see the children happy and wouldn't deliberately damage their morals. "If you could just take the time to check with either Draco or myself before purchasing them anything."

"That sounds reasonable, Cissa," Lucius voiced evenly.

"Yes, of course." Narcissa smiled sweetly. "And what of the dress, Ginevra?"

"She's already worn it, so I guess she can keep it this time," Ginny agreed grudgingly. She had a feeling they'd be having this conversation time and again over the years.

"Thank you." Narcissa was positively buoyant. In her mind she had won this battle without question.

Pleased with the outcome, Lucius looked pointedly at his son. "Draco, I feel it's time we made our way back to the office."

"Yes, we should."

"Ginevra and I have a lot to accomplish today," Narcissa announced much to Ginny's surprise.

"What do you have planned, Mother?" Draco asked curiously.

"I need to take Ginevra through the household procedures."

"That would be wonderful. Thank you, Narcissa," Ginny responded guardedly.

"The servants have been instructed to continue as normal until you issue new instructions and the meals have been planned for the next fortnight, but you'll need to get a firm grasp on what is expected sooner rather than later."

"We should be getting back to the office," Lucius said as he stood.

Both men bid their respective wives goodbye with Draco paying a little more attention to Ginny's lips than Lucius did to Narcissa's. It took an impatient growl from Lucius to get his son to relinquish his new wife and allow them to get on their way.

As soon as Lucius and Draco were out of sight, Ginny turned her attention to her mother-in-law. "I should check on the children."

"Millie can check on them," Narcissa suggested strongly. "You really must allow the servants to do more for you. Now shall we move to my parlor, so I can take you through the household routines?"

"All right then," Ginny agreed reluctantly. The children would be wondering where she'd gotten to if she didn't put in an appearance soon.

On the walk to Narcissa's parlor, Ginny summoned Millie. She asked her to check on the twins and serve them some morning tea in the playroom.

Once the women reached Narcissa's private sanctuary, the blonde's attitude changed to one of utmost seriousness. She pulled several heavy ledgers from a concealed bookcase and placed them on her desk.

"You'll have to set up your own system for recording the activities in the house, but you're more than welcome to use mine as a guide."

"I didn't realize it was this involved," Ginny uttered. "I mean I know the house doesn't run itself, but this is a lot more than I expected."

"Organization is the key. Without it, you will be lost." Narcissa stroked the top ledger almost lovingly. "This is my meal planning book."

"Ginny took the heavy leather bound volume and opened the cover. Again she was surprised. The level of detail was quite unnerving. Before her was a diary page with six separate sections: breakfast, morning tea, lunch, afternoon tea, dinner, and supper. Each section was filled in to the last detail. Every person expected to be at the manor for the meal was listed, along with exactly what was to be served, right down to the wine for dinner.

"Of course the servants are capable of changing the menu or preparing more food for unexpected guests at a moments notice. They're very competent for imbecilic creatures."

Ginny nodded as she flicked through the pages. She noticed that even the meals Narcissa wasn't at home for were detailed for where she was dining. "Where can I get these books? They're perfect for the job, so there's no point in using anything else."

"I have a supply of unused books. You're most welcome to them. We have these printed specially, so you'll have to order more when you've used what I have left."

"Oh." It didn't surprise Ginny in the least. Narcissa would never use anything so plebian as an off the shelf book when she could have something made exactly to her specifications.

"I placed a large order just last year, so you won't have to worry about reordering for some time. I had thought I would be mistress of the manor for some years to come."

Ginny suddenly felt incredibly uncomfortable. She wasn't sure what her mother-in-law was trying to get at, but it sounded as though she hadn't been ready to relinquish the title. "I—err—"

"Oh dear," Narcissa exclaimed when she saw the expression on Ginny's face. "Don't misunderstand. I wasn't implying that I'm not happy Draco married. If fact, it's quite the opposite. I do enjoy having the children here and you know I never had a daughter."

Ginny blushed slightly. "Thank you."

Narcissa's blue eyes softened and she looked across the desk at her daughter-in-law in the same way she looked at her grandchildren. "Despite our occasional differences, I know we're going to become even closer."

"So do I." Ginny smiled warmly.

"Anyway back to the books. I ordered so many, because I truly believed he wouldn't get married for years and then he'd only take a wife out of duty to the family line. At the time he was changing women more often than his underwear. Of course all that changed the moment he found you."

"Well I'm glad you ordered so many."

"I'll have a servant deliver one to your parlor later. They're stored elsewhere in the house."

"I don't mind collecting it. Where are they stored?"

"Goodness, I have no idea. I just tell the house elves to put them away until I'm ready to use them."

"I might ask one of the servants then."

"Why on earth would you want to visit some storage area?"

"It's not the storage area or what's in it. I just want to familiarize myself with the house. We moved in six weeks ago and I'd still get lost if I took a different route to the front door."

Narcissa smiled understandingly. "Don't try to rush it, you'll just confuse yourself and that's more frustrating. I took my time and explored a little further every day. Now I know the entire house almost as well as I know my own reflection."

"I'd like to take my time, but I felt so useless when Drake disappeared. I need to find my way around as quickly as possible."

"You do realize knowing your way around won't banish that horrid helpless feeling if one of the children do lose their way in the house."

"I know, but at least I'd be able to look for them without getting lost myself."

"The servants can search for you and the ancestral portraits all have other frames throughout the house. There's nothing they don't see or hear. As mistress, you can now ask them questions. Mind you, they're not terribly polite and they don't always give direct answers, but in cases where a Malfoy child could be in danger they will cooperate."

"I'll remember that."

"Best we get back to business or the men will be home before we're finished."

"Yes."

"I always plan meals a month in advance. The house elves in the kitchen then advise what shopping is required and you'll need to authorize the purchases. If there are any changes, you're best to advise the kitchen at the earliest possible convenience, most especially if there are extras for a meal. You'll see that I also write our social engagements in there as well, just so I know not to plan a meal at that time or why I haven't planned a meal for that time."

"Will you do your own meal planning?"

"Goodness no. It is your duty to feed the occupants of the house."

"Oh."

Narcissa reached into one of her drawers. "I've made a list of our likes and dislikes to help you plan."

"Thank you," Ginny mumbled. The list was more akin to a book. How she was ever going to remember all of that was beyond her.

"I included Draco's preferences as well. With everything going on, I'm sure you haven't taken the time to notice what he does and doesn't eat."

"Umm—no, no I haven't." Ginny's mind was reeling.

"No matter. It's all in there. Now I will advise you of any social engagements Lucius and I have that will affect your planning. Of course, if we're entertaining at home I will advise you of the details and what I want served."

A small smile of relief crossed Ginny's face. At least she wouldn't be responsible for planning Narcissa's dinner parties.

"It's not that difficult once you get started."

"I'm sure it's not."

"Shall we move onto the cleaning?"

"Yes, let's do that."

Narcissa pushed another ledger across the desk towards Ginny. "This is my cleaning schedule."

Ginny placed the menu back on the desk and opened the cleaning schedule. Again diary-like pages were within the book.

"The family areas are cleaned every day, along with the kitchen, foyer and the parlors at the front of the house. All areas we don't use on a regular basis and can't be seen by any guests are cleaned at least once a year. If we're entertaining the rooms we will be using are cleaned the day of the event." Narcissa listed everything so quickly Ginny could hardly keep up. "It took me some time to develop the schedule I use and I find it works wonderfully, but you are free to change it to suit yourself."

Ginny nodded absently as she flicked through some of the entries in the book.

"If you are so inclined to make changes, may I suggest keeping them small for the time being; many changes at once will confuse the servants and lead to less than effective work from them."

"I'm sure the schedule is fine the way it is for now. I'll get my head around the menus first then tackle the cleaning, when I have more time."

"That's perfectly reasonable. I'll arrange for the details to be transferred into a book for you."

"Thank you."

"There are also many functions we are expected to attend each year and some we host. This last book is a social diary. Everything in here is cross-referenced in the menu planner and, depending on the event, the cleaning schedule."

"What type of functions do we host?"

"Most are dinner parties, but we do hold at least one ball a year—usually a Christmas Ball. Plus there are the special functions that come up periodically, such as your wedding."

Ginny's eyes widened and panic began to flood her mind. She wasn't ready to deal with a ball. "How long does it usually take to plan a ball?"

"I generally start no less than six months beforehand."

"Are we hosting a Christmas Ball this year?"

"Of course, we have so much to be thankful for this year."

Ginny couldn't contain the loud gasp that escaped her. She'd never planned a ball before and it was already June.

"Planning for the Christmas Ball begins next month."

"Next month?" She felt as though she should have started last Christmas.

"Yes, if we don't start then we'll never be ready in time." Narcissa could see panic beginning to cloud her daughter-in-law's eyes. "I'll be guiding you all the way, so you can learn from my experience. There's quite a bit involved with an event that size, but I've done it so many times now it hardly seems difficult at all."

Ginny visibly relaxed. "Thank you."

"You will become accustomed to planning these events," Narcissa assured her.

Narcissa considered her young successor for a few minutes. Her mind drifted back to the early days of her marriage. Even though she'd been raised in a privileged home the transition from daughter of a wealthy wizard to wife of a wealthy wizard had been difficult. Lucius' mother had not helped her to adjust and as a result, she'd made many mistakes. She decided she wouldn't subject Ginny to the same torture she had suffered. "I know how difficult it is to adjust, so until you feel confident enough to take on everything alone, I'll assist you where ever you need."

"Thank you."

"Think nothing of it. I'd rather help you than have everything fall in a heap."

"I don't even want to think about that happening."

"The repercussions wouldn't be pleasant."

The women talked for a while longer about the house and what was expected of the Mistress of the Manor. Ginny was still in a little shock. She had no idea running a house could be so involved. Before Ginny left Narcissa's study, the older woman reiterated her pledge to assist wherever she needed help and to have the servants deliver the books she would require for running the house. Narcissa also mentioned that she might take the children for a walk sometime after lunch, so Ginny could rest. The young wife didn't bother to mention that it was unlikely she'd rest, not with so much to be getting on with as far as the house was concerned.

Ginny's mind was still spinning when she entered the playroom. The twins were playing rowdily under Millie's watchful eyes.

Drake stopped what he was doing the moment he spied his mother. "Mummy! Mummy! Can we go outside? Millie won't let us!"

"Yes, sweetheart, we'll go outside for a while."

"Yay!" The little boy was bouncing with excitement.

"We'll go out through the parlor, so I can watch you from the patio."

With Drake running ahead of his mother and sister, they made their way into the sunny outdoors. Millie was placing a pot of tea on the table even before Ginny sat down.

"Drake, stay where I can see you," Ginny called as her son ran past the table and onto the lawn. "You to, Angel, don't wander away."

"Yes, Mummy," Angel replied, following her brother at a more sedate pace.

"Mistress would like tea now?" Millie asked.

"I can pour it myself, Millie."

"Millie will watch young Master and little Miss," the old servant uttered.

"Yes, thank you." Ginny smiled at the house elf. There was no way she'd be able to keep up with the twins once they started running around properly.

Ginny summoned the book she'd begun reading while they were away from her nightstand. She tried to lose herself in the steamy romance, but her mind insisted on wandering to the books Narcissa was having delivered to her parlor and what she had to do with them.

The sound of Drake playing garnered her attention briefly. The little boy was pretending he was on a broomstick and playing Quidditch. He was whooping through the air trying to emulate the sound of fast flight. When he "flew" too close to his sister she let loose a squeal and told him off in no uncertain terms. He had apparently upset her baby doll and she was now trying to calm the 'infant'. Ginny smiled softly when Angel, satisfied that her 'baby' was now calm, snorted with disgust at Drake and stalked off to the other side of the area they were playing in.

Millie had taken to Apparating between the children. It was the only way she could keep up with Drake. Her fussing that he should be careful not to injure himself was ignored entirely.

Ginny allowed her eyes to fall back to her book. She banished thoughts of the house and forced herself to concentrate on the words in front of her. Meals were planned for the next two weeks and the house elves would continue cleaning to Narcissa's schedule until she issued new instructions. There was no point in worrying herself sick about it yet — she could try to convince herself anyway.

After a while, Ginny successfully found herself immersed in her trashy novel. She was almost disappointed when a servant appeared next to her, announcing lunch. Not wanting to leave the sunshine, Ginny silently debated whether she could have lunch on the patio. She decided to watch the house elf for its reaction and if it wasn't favorable she would change her mind. "We'll have lunch out here."

"Yes, Mistress." The servant vanished with a pop and no hint that her request was difficult.

"Drake, Angel, time to wash your hands for lunch."

The running around in the fresh air must have encouraged Drake's appetite to new levels, because the little boy didn't put up his usual argument about washing his hands and he was back at the table in minutes, eager to eat. Ginny constantly found herself getting in the way of the servants as they tried to serve them. She had to remind herself a few times to sit back down and not do their job for them. The twins had become quite accustomed to being waited on and sat back a little impatiently while the creatures served their meal.

The moment the children had finished eating they were back to playing. Angel had decided to run around with Drake, leaving her doll at the table. Ginny picked up her book again and immersed herself in the fictional world. It was so relaxing just sitting in the sunshine with the distant sounds of her children playing happily. With Millie flitting around the yard trying to keep up with the twins, Ginny could relax and not worry about them venturing too far.

Screams pierced the tranquility. Ginny's book fell to the ground as she jumped to her feet and ran in the direction of the wailing. Just behind a large tree, Angel lay sprawled on the grass, her little head craned upwards to facilitate her voice.

"Angel, sweetheart what happened?"

"I—I—" The little strawberry blonde hiccupped.

"Calm down. Take a deep breath and tell Mummy where it hurts."

"My—my knee."

"Okay, sit up and we'll have a look."

Angel whimpered pitifully as she turned herself over and sat up. There was a small graze on her left knee, but apart from that there didn't appear to be any other physical damage.

Ginny relaxed when she saw the minor abrasion, but her nerves were set on fire again as her daughter noticed the state of the pretty dress she was wearing. An earsplitting scream filled the air.

Millie hovered nearby, not wanting to intrude upon her mistress, but needing to be on hand in case she was wanted. Drake stood near the tree, his expression was fearful.

"Angel, you have to calm down."

"My—my—dress, my pretty dress." The little girl picked up the skirt of her dress and let it fall back to her lap. Dirt and grass stains covered the delicate fabric.

"It's nothing that can't be cleaned."

Millie ventured a bit closer. "Millie can clean for little Miss."

"Thank you, Millie." Ginny smiled at the old servant. She appeared to be genuinely distraught by Angel's plight. "See, Angel, your dress can be cleaned. Why don't we get you changed so Millie can clean your dress and we'll have a look at that knee as well?"

The little girl sniffed loudly and nodded. She allowed her mother to help her to stand. Drake quietly slipped up beside his sister and took her hand.

With Millie following behind, they slowly made their way upstairs to Angel's chambers. Ginny took Angel straight through to her private bathroom and lifted her onto the bench. The graze on her knee wasn't deep or even large, but it was dirty.

"All right, sweetheart, I have to clean your knee, so you're going to have to hold still for me."

Angel nodded gravely. Her big gray eyes were still brimming with fat tears.

Drake moved over and took her hand again. "It's okay, Angel, it won't hurt."

At the sight of her mother's wand Angel whimpered loudly.

Ginny didn't waste any time casting the cleansing charm for wounds. She knew if she hesitated nothing short of a body binding charm would keep Angel still enough to cast the charm.

Fat tears rolled down Angel's face and she whimpered loudly as the area heated up just a bit with her mother's magic. All the while, Drake held her hand and kept reassuring her that everything would be fine.

"There, all clean," Ginny announced. She wet a cloth at the sink and placed it over Angel's knee to soothe the area. "We'll just leave that on for a few minutes, then we'll get you changed."

Millie hovered anxiously in the doorway. This mistress was very different from her old mistress. If ever Draco had hurt himself as a young boy, Millie had tended his wounds. She was at a loss as to what she should do next. Her mistress was taking care of everything, but she might be needed so she was loath to move away.

"Does it feel better now?"

Angel nodded gently.

"Good. Let's get you changed." Ginny removed the cloth and lifted her daughter down.

On the way to her dressing room, Angel limped slightly, even though there was no need. A grazed knee didn't render the limb maimed, it just stung a bit, but Ginny didn't say anything to her. Drake guided his sister to a small vanity stool, so she could sit down while their mother chose a clean dress for her.

Ginny rifled through her daughter's closets quickly. As she did, she remembered she had to check Angel's old room for the play clothes Draco had noticed missing. With very little in the way of 'normal' day wear in the closet Ginny settled on a dress that was likely worth more than what she was wearing herself.

"Are you all right to dress yourself?"

"I think so," Angel responded miserably.

"Millie can help little Miss," the house elf offered in an almost excited tone.

"Thank you, Millie," Ginny answered. "I just have to check on something in Angel's old suite while I remember. If I'm not back by the time Angel is dressed, can you take the twins to the playroom?"

"As Mistress wishes."

"No going outside, Drake."

"Yes, Mummy." The little boy sighed heavily. He didn't understand why they couldn't play outside whenever they wanted. It hadn't been a problem at the Burrow, in fact, if anything they'd been encouraged to play in the yard.

"Don't look so miserable."

"Why can't we go outside again?"

"Because I'm not there to watch you."

"But you don't have to watch us."

"Yes I do."

"Never did at Grandma and Granddad's," Drake mumbled miserably.

"Drake, the yard at the Burrow is much smaller and it's fenced."

"We used to go into the field," Drake pointed out.

"I know, but there's nothing dangerous in that field. I used to play there."

"Nothing dangerous outside."

"The lake is too close and you don't know how to swim."

"But—"

"No buts, Drake, stay inside until I get down there." Ginny watched her son's face fall again. She knew he preferred to play outside, but with the lake so close, she didn't want to think about what could happen. "I'll talk to Daddy and see if we can't enclose an area somehow, so you can play outside whenever you want."

"Okay."

Safe in the knowledge that the children would remain indoors, Ginny made her way to the northern wing. She was wandered casually down the corridor where the twins' old rooms were located completely lost in thought and not really paying attention to her surroundings.

"Ginevra, were you looking for me?"

"Oh, Narcissa, I didn't see you there."

"Is everything all right?"

"Yes, everything is fine. I was just going to check Angel's old room. Some of her clothes are missing and I wondered if they'd been forgotten in the move."

"Oh dear, what outfits are missing?"

"Just some play clothes."

"How extraordinary."

"It is a bit odd, but they're probably still hanging in her old closet."

"More than likely," Narcissa agreed quickly. "I was just heading down to collect the children for a walk."

"They should just about be in the playroom with Millie. Drake will be very happy to see you. He's chapping at the bit to go outside again."

"I shouldn't keep him waiting then."

Ginny waited until Narcissa was out of sight before continuing on her way. Angel's old chambers were just as they had been, minus the personal touches. The dressing room had been completely cleaned out, not even a stray hair ribbon remained.

She wandered back to the southern wing slowly. The mystery of the missing clothes still nagged at her. With the children out of the house for now, Ginny decided to use this time to go through Narcissa's list and maybe begin planning a few meals. She entered her study and immediately felt at ease. It was possibly the only room in the house where she truly felt comfortable. Not that she was uncomfortable in their wing of the massive house, but she knew this room was hers exclusively and it made it all the more cozy.

As Narcissa had promised, the books had been delivered. They were sitting in the middle of her desk with the 'list' on the very top. There was also another box on the desk — a gift by the look. When she sat down Millie appeared in front of the desk.

"Mistress would like tea?"

"Yes, thank you," Ginny answered distractedly as she tore the card from the gift.

It was from Draco. She untied the ribbon and lifted the lid. The box was full of fancy quills, a rainbow of different colored inks and there was also a gold paperweight in the shape of a rose.

"Your tea, Mistress."

Ginny had failed to notice Millie re-enter the room and place a tea tray on a small sideboard beside her desk. "Thank you."

"Would Mistress be wanting anything else?"

"No—Yes. There are some clothes missing from Angel's closets. Do you know what happened to them?"

"Old Mistress did tell Millie to dispose of some things from Miss Angel's rooms."

"What things?"

The house elf became quite agitated. "There was some dresses, pants and shirts."

"What condition were the clothes in?"

"They was old, Mistress, _very_ old."

Ginny paused for a moment to remind herself that it wasn't Millie's fault, she was just following orders. "Thank you."

The aged servant spared no time in Disapparating. Her Mistress was angry again and she had no desire to find herself in the line of fire.

When Millie left, Ginny turned her attention back to the gift Draco had left for her. She set the quills up in the stand she found at bottom of the box and stowed the bottles of ink in her top drawer. She was fastidiously arranged her new accessories when she distinctly heard her name being called. There was no one in the doorway when her eyes roamed in that direction.

"Ginny!"

Her eyes flicked across the room. The voice was most definitely coming from within.

"Gin, in the fireplace."

"Oh, Draco, I didn't realize you'd had the Floo opened."

"I've only just had it done, so I thought I'd test it and let you know at the same time."

"Thank you. At least I can Floo mum now without having to walk to the other side of the house."

"You're welcome. How has your day been?"

"Let's see, after you left your mother explained how she runs the house, I took the children outside for a while, we had lunch on the patio, then the twins played until Angel fell over—"

"Is she all right?"

"Yes, she just grazed her knee, bruised her pride and just about had a conniption when she saw how dirty her dress had become."

"Where is she now?"

"Your mother has taken both of them for a walk."

"And what are you supposed to be doing?"

"That depends on who you talk to."

"Oh?"

"Your mother seem to think I need to nap, but I really need to get my head around everything that has to be done to keep the house running."

"Mother means well."

"I know. At least I can go through all of this in peace." Ginny sighed. "I found out what happened to Angel's missing clothes."

"Do I want to know?"

"Your mother told Millie to throw them out."

"Do I need to come home?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Millie's not going to turn up in my office again, is she?"

"No, Draco. It's fine. I'm not even going to mention it to your mother."

Draco's disembodied head looked at his wife incredulously. After the scene this morning, he was certain Ginny wouldn't let this go without comment.

"The clothes were old; it's not worth the drama."

"All right," Draco responded cautiously.

"You said yourself yesterday; it's not worth getting upset over some second-hand clothes."

"So I did."

"Anyway I'll have to go shopping sometime this week so Angel has something other than formal clothes to wear."

"Maybe we could have lunch that day?"

"That would be nice."

"Did you find the surprise I left on your desk?"

"Oh yes! Thank you, I love it."

"Well you needed some quills," Draco replied nonchalantly.

"You spoil me."

"I like spoiling you." The way Draco's eyes darkened at that point indicated spoiling his wife wasn't all he liked to do. He quickly pushed aside the wicked thoughts and focused on more mundane things before the temptation to come home overrode his commonsense. "What do you have planned for the rest of the afternoon?"

"I was going to go through the household books... maybe plan a few meals."

"Do you have one for cleaning?"

"Yes, your mother keeps three books: meals, cleaning, and social events. Plus everything is cross referenced."

"Mother is organized if nothing else."

"I'll say."

"I want you to schedule a full house clean."

"The entire house?"

"Yes, the day Drake went missing I noticed how filthy some sections of the house are and I want it all clean."

"Every room gets cleaned at least once a year that's what Narcissa told me anyway."

Draco screwed his nose up in disapproval. "Once a year isn't often enough. See what you can do to rectify the situation."

"All right," Ginny agreed reluctantly. "But I wasn't going to mess with the cleaning schedule yet."

"Gin, it needs to be done. I don't know if Mother even realizes how bad the third floor gets. Once a year simply isn't enough," Draco responded resolutely.

"Okay, I'll have a look at the schedule."

"Thank you. What about meals?"

"They're planned for the next two weeks, so I want to get another month done if I can."

"Feel like hosting a few dinner parties?"

"Why?"

"I did promise your brother he could help me open that bottle of Odgen's and I'd like to get together with my friends, plus we should get the bridal party and their partners together to say thank you."

"Okay, so it that two or three dinner parties?"

"I'll leave it up to you, but I want Bill and his family on their own. If I open that bottle with too many blokes around we won't get to appreciate it properly."

"Okay, I'll Floo Fleur and see when they're available."

"Sounds good. I have to go, love. Father's been waiting to speak with me for a few minutes."

"All right, have a good afternoon and I'll see you tonight."

"You, too!"

"Don't be late."

"I won't."

"Love you."

"I love you, too, beautiful."

Draco's head vanished from the hearth immediately and Ginny was alone again. She picked up the social diary Narcissa had sent her and opened it to the current week. Narcissa had transferred all of the coming events into the diary for Ginny and she noticed that her in-laws would not be home this coming Saturday evening. It was a perfect opportunity to have Bill and Fleur over for dinner.

After a quick Floo call to Fleur to check if Saturday was convenient, Ginny checked the menu ledger for Saturday evening's meal plans. With a few additions, she had her Saturday evening dinner party planned in full. While it wouldn't be a formal affair, she did feel somewhat accomplished at having arranged everything with relative ease.

The afternoon flew past. Millie popped in with some afternoon tea for Ginny and informed her the children were partaking afternoon tea with Narcissa in the gardens. By the time the children came thundering into her parlor, Ginny had not only arranged dinner for Saturday evening, she'd drawn up a guest list for another dinner party, identified a number of possible dates and begun planning the menu. When Draco arrived home she'd check everything with him before making any final decisions. To add to her accomplished mood, she had also planned an additional week of meals for the family.

Rather than have the children playing in her parlor, Ginny took them down to their playroom. With luck Draco would be home soon and they'd be able to have an early family dinner then spend some time together tonight. She'd missed him today.

* * *

Draco Apparated into the foyer of his home. The servant who usually served his father greeted him.

"Why are you not at your usual post?" Draco asked as he dropped his cloak onto the creature.

"Millie is being very busy with the children, Master. Ippy has been told by Old Mistress to keep watch at the door."

"Very well. Where is my wife?"

"Mistress was in the playroom with the children."

"See that my brief case gets to my study." Draco strode off without waiting for the servant to respond. He wanted to say hello to his family and relax a little before dinner. It had been a long day.

Draco stood in the doorway of the playroom for a few moments, completely unnoticed by the occupants. The scene warmed him. Ginny was sitting between the twins reading from a large storybook. As he observed them silently he saw his son's gaze drift from the book, cross the room and land on him. The excited spark that lit up Drake's eyes the moment he saw his father just about pushed Draco's heart to bursting point.

"Daddy!" Drake bounded off the couch and ran to his father's waiting arms.

"Hello, mate. Did you have a good day?"

"Yep."

"Good." Draco put his son on his feet and scooped Angel into his arms. "How about you, Princess? Did you have a good day?"

"I fell over and hurt my knee." Angel lifted her leg higher to show off the almost non-existent wound.

Draco placed a quick kiss over the graze. "Does it feel better now?"

"Uh huh."

"Great." He gently lowered Angel back to the floor, so he could greet his wife. "Why don't you two go and wash your hands for dinner while I say hello to Mummy?"

"My hands are clean." Drake held his hands up for inspection. "See."

"You still have to wash them before we eat," Ginny countered gently.

"Don't see why, they're clean," Drake mumbled as he left the room with Angel.

Draco slipped his arms around Ginny and pulled her into his chest. He captured her lips in a deep kiss.

"Hello, love."

"Hello, did you have a good day?"

"Busy." Draco placed a fleeting kiss on her forehead. "I'm glad to be home."

"Are you hungry?"

"A bit. When's dinner?"

"At six o'clock."

"You've kept Mother's routine?"

"It works well for the twins, but we can eat earlier if you want."

"Six is fine. It gives me time to have a drink and unwind."

"What would you like?"

"Firewhisky would be good, but I'll take it in the parlor."

Ginny threaded her arm through Draco's and they walked to the parlor together. Draco moved straight to the concealed cabinet on the other side of the room and poured himself a generous amount of Firewhisky in a crystal tumbler. "Would you like anything, love?"

"No thanks."

Draco sat in 'his' large armchair and put his feet up on the plush ottoman in front of him. He patted the arm of the chair. "Come and join me, love."

"I should check on the twins."

"They'll be fine. Millie can see to them."

"But they might get lost."

"Going from here to their bathrooms?"

"They—"

"They'll be fine. Gin, they need to be able to wander around without us. You didn't escort them everywhere when you were living with your parents, did you?"

"Of course I didn't, but the Burrow would fit into the foyer with room to spare."

"They won't get lost. Remember they've lived here two weeks longer than you. They probably know their way around better than I do by now. Come and sit with me."

"All right." Ginny sighed and leaned back against the chair.

"Good girl."

"You look exhausted."

"I feel it," Draco admitted. "I knew it would be busy, but I wasn't prepared for hellish and I missed you."

"I missed you, too."

"The weekend can't come quick enough."

"Is it that bad?"

Draco nodded. "I don't want to talk about it now. Let's just relax for a few minutes."

"All right."

They sat in companionable silence, Draco sipping his Firewhisky while Ginny ran her hand through his hair. Within minutes the stress of the day slipped away and Draco relaxed. The thought that his day wasn't over yet kept trying to invade his mind, but he pushed it aside every time. He didn't want to think about the work he had been forced to bring home from the office yet.

"Mummy, can we have dinner now? I'm starving." Drake entered the parlor rubbing his tummy for effect.

"Yes, sweetheart."

The little boy turned around with a whoop of joy. "Angel, we can eat... go to the dining room."

"I suppose we should amble down to the dining room before _your_ son fades away from lack of sustenance," Draco commented when Drake took off in the direction of the dining room.

"What makes you say he's _my_ son?"

"A Malfoy would never announce his hunger so bluntly."

"Really?"

"Yes, we're far more refined."

"Well I suggest you prepare your sensibilities to be assaulted, because _your_ son always announces his hunger that bluntly."

"_Your_ son," Draco mumbled.

"Sorry, darling, you can't disown him."

They were in the doorway of the dining room and sitting at the head of the table, in his father's chair, was Drake. He looked every bit a Malfoy sitting in the large chair with an air of impatience about him.

"Just what do you think you're doing, Drake?" Draco looked at his son with amusement.

"Waiting for dinner, but the house elves won't give me any."

Draco held Ginny's chair out for her. "Why don't you try waiting in your own chair?"

"I decided I'm going to sit here."

"Really?" Draco asked as he lifted his son off the chair. "Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but this is my chair."

"Why?"

"I'm the head of the house, so I sit at the head of the table."

"When can I sit there?"

"Not until you get yourself a wife."

Drake's face screwed up in revulsion.

"Looks like you're sitting on the side of the table forever then," Draco commented casually as he made himself comfortable in his chair.

"Not getting married to no witch," Drake muttered disgustedly.

"I hope he holds onto that idea when he gets older," Ginny said wistfully.

Draco chuckled. He had no doubt Drake would out grow his aversion to witches in time, but he hoped his son would hold onto the 'not getting married' idea for a little longer.

The servants served dinner quickly and left the family alone. While they ate, the twins told Draco about their day. Just as dessert was served the animated chatter gave way to delighted squeals when Angel spied her grandparents. With no regard for table manners, Angel left the table and flew across the room to her grandfather.

"Grandfather, did you miss me?"

"I most certainly did."

Narcissa continued into the dining room, leaving Lucius and Angel near the doorway. She stopped abruptly about half way down the table. "The servants can hold dinner if you require time to dress, Ginevra."

"We've decided not to dress for dinner from now on," Ginny responded lightly.

The briefest flicker of shock filtered through Narcissa's blue eyes before she pinned her son with a piercing glare. "Draco?"

A sense of self-preservation caused Draco to hide his smirk behind his napkin before standing up to greet his mother. He had predicted her disgusted reaction the day before and her glare didn't surprise him in the least. "Mother?"

"Have you abandoned all your manners?"

"Of course not, Mother. We simply won't be dressing for dinner when we eat in our own dining room, because it's too time consuming to organize the twins and it's truly not necessary when it's just us."

"I suppose you'll be coming to breakfast in your nightwear as well," Narcissa snapped acerbically.

Draco grinned cheekily at his wife. "Only when we have it in bed."

"Narcissa, it's just doesn't make sense to change the twins for dinner when they have their bath straight after dinner and dress for bed," Ginny explained. "Special occasions are a different matter entirely, but when it's just family there's no need."

"When Draco was a boy, I would have him bathed before dinner," Narcissa informed her haughtily.

"It's an option, but I would be more inclined to have the children dress in their pajamas after their bath rather than clothes."

"Basic etiquette dictates—"

"Mother, it doesn't matter," Draco said in a low voice.

"But it does," Narcissa countered.

Lucius heard the distress in his wife's tone and wandered closer. "What is going on?"

"Oh, Lucius, don't you see how they're dressed," Narcissa whispered harshly. "No respect for common manners. Drake has had those clothes on all day!"

"Calm yourself, dearest. I'm certain there's a logical explanation."

Draco cleared his throat subtly to garner his father's attention. "We've decided not to dress for dinner when it's just family."

"I see. I presume you have a good reason for allowing this to occur?"

Ginny rolled her eyes ungraciously. In her opinion it didn't matter what the family wore to dinner. The only thing she worried about with the children was whether their hands were clean. "It's better for the children if we don't bother."

"How is it better? They need to learn basic etiquette," Narcissa said sharply.

"They also need to be able to relax and not worry if they spill something," Ginny countered quickly.

"Mother, this isn't open for discussion." Draco wasn't about to stand by idly and allow the situation to escalate, which he knew would happen if the women were allowed to continue. "Whenever we join you and father in _your_ dining room for a meal, we will abide your wishes, but in our own dining room we will make our own rules."

"I was merely—"

"Would you care to join us for dessert?" Draco changed the subject, smoothly cutting his mother off.

"No thank you, we've eaten."

"A cup of tea then?" Draco held a chair out for Narcissa and when she had made herself comfortable, he resumed his position at the head of the table.

Lucius sat in the empty chair next to his wife. "I might just have one more slice of cherry pie."

"Lucius," Narcissa said with clear warning.

"One more slice will not harm me."

"Not usually, but considering you've already had two slices, I rather think a third would be harmful."

"They were small servings," Lucius countered as he reached for the pie on the table. "Ginevra, would you pass the cream please?"

"Here you are." Ginny flicked her wand at the large jug of cream and it floated down the table to side in front of Lucius.

"Thank you."

While her husband was busy voicing his thanks, Narcissa seized the jug and poured a small amount on his serve of pie then placed the jug out of his reach.

"Perhaps a little more, dearest?"

"You have more than enough," Narcissa replied in a tone that brokered no argument.

Lucius wasn't particularly happy, but he didn't argue the point. It simply wasn't worth the trouble it would cause him later. "I had thought you might have been detained at the office, Draco."

"I brought the files home. I'll see if I can't make some more progress tonight."

"Very well. If you require any assistance just let me know."

"I will."

The family finished their dessert with Draco, Lucius and the children filling the silence with conversation. Ginny and Narcissa barely acknowledged the conversation going on around them, let alone took part. Both were seething.

A short time after everyone had finished eating Ginny announced it was time for the twins' bath, much to her son's disgust. Lucius and Narcissa bid their grandchildren goodnight and excused themselves for the evening.

"I've got some work to finish, love, so I'll be in my study."

"You're not going to help?"

"Millie will help you." Draco kissed her cheek and strode off in the direction of his study. He missed the deadly glare that bore into his back until he was out of sight.

With no other choice, Ginny ushered the twins upstairs and into Angel's bathtub. She was furious at Draco and intended on letting him know all about it after the children were in bed. Why he had to bring work home on his first day back was beyond her. She had been looking forward to spending the evening with him, but it didn't seem as though that was going to be possible now.

Millie, as always, was close by in case Ginny needed her. The elderly servant had grown somewhat perceptive over her years of service. She was well aware of her mistress' dangerous demeanor and for that reason she stayed a reasonable distance from the irate witch.

When Ginny left the bathroom to get the twins' pajamas, Millie moved closer to the tub and gently encouraged the children to wash themselves. She could hear her mistress slamming drawers in Angel's dressing room and quickly cast a silencing charm so the children wouldn't have to hear their mother's displeasure.

Millie moved away from the tub the moment Ginny reappeared in the doorway. Ginny got the twins out of the bath, dried them and dressed them for bed. Millie once again looked on, ready to assist if needed, but keeping a safe distance from Ginny.

After reading two stories to the children, a fairy story for Angel and a dragon story for Drake, Ginny tucked them into bed. Despite their requests, she didn't allow them to visit their father to say goodnight. Her promises to have Draco come up and see them were met with more protests, but she didn't back down. If Draco couldn't leave his study for five minutes then he would miss out on kissing them goodnight.

Before going down to Draco's study, Ginny made certain Millie would stay close to the twins' rooms in case they needed anything in her absence. The old servant seemed almost grateful to be given the polite order.

She paused just outside the door to her husbands study to gather her thoughts. There were several matters she needed to discuss with Draco and if she lost her temper she knew she wouldn't receive reasonable answers to her questions. Without knocking, Ginny let herself into Draco's inner sanctum.

Draco looked up sharply at the disturbance. He wasn't overly happy to be troubled when he had so much work to do, but rather than give voice to his irritation at the intrusion or her failure to at least knock, Draco wisely kept his thoughts private. Given her expression, she had been quite obviously upset by something. With a mental sigh, he placed his quill on the desk and hoped it wouldn't take too long to put a smile on her face again, while she sat down on one of the visitors chairs opposite his desk.

"The twins are in bed."

"Good."

"They were asking after you."

"I'll check on them when I'm finished here."

Ginny bit back the nasty retort threatening to topple out of her mouth. "They'd like to see you before they fall asleep."

"Gin, I have to work. I'll check on them later." He knew the sight of her nostrils flaring wasn't terribly good for his health, but the fact that her hands were still in her lap and not reaching for her wand was comforting.

Again Ginny stopped herself from spitting something spiteful at him. "I invited Bill and Fleur for dinner this Saturday."

"Great. I think there's a game on the Wizarding Wireless, so we can relax and listen to that."

"Who?" Ginny frowned with confusion and briefly wondered if they were having the same discussion.

"Bill and I."

Ginny rolled her eyes. She didn't need to be told what would happen — Bill and Draco would drink and listen to the game, while she and Fleur were stuck not only keeping the kids entertained, but quiet as well.

"Check what time the game starts and we'll eat around that."

"You can check what time the game starts and we'll eat when I say, not around a game of Quidditch. I am _not_ your secretary." Ginny allowed her words to sink in for a moment before continuing. "Now the other dinner party... Here's the guest list I drew up, a suggested menu and our available dates. Add or change anything you want and choose a date."

Draco took the parchments from her and glanced over them very briefly. "They're fine."

"Really? You can tell that without reading them?"

"Gin, I don't have time for this."

"Well you're going to make time. I've never planned a dinner party before and as it was your idea you can at least give me your opinion."

"Okay, point taken. I'll take a look at them and get back to you tomorrow."

"Fine."

Draco put the parchments aside and picked up his quill ready to resume work. A not so subtle growl from the other side of the desk had him putting the quill back in its stand. "You're not finished yet, are you?"

"Not nearly."

"What else?"

"The twins need a safe area to play outside."

"There's nothing dangerous outside."

"The lake," Ginny suggested disdainfully.

"Tell them not to go near it."

Ginny glared at him scathingly. "Do you really think that will stop either one of them?"

"Well, it should."

"In theory, however, reality is an entirely different monster. The gardens are too big to just let them roam about without supervision as well."

"Millie can—" Draco stopped when her expression darkened further. "What would you like me to do to rectify the situation?"

"We need a barrier around a reasonable portion of the yard - either a fence or a ward."

"For aesthetics a ward would be better."

"Fine with me."

"I'll take care of it Saturday morning, if not before."

"Fine."

"Anything else?"

"Are you going to be bringing work home every night?"

"Not if I can help it, but sometimes it's unavoidable."

"Oh."

"Believe me, love, I'd much rather be relaxing with you than stuck in here trying not to pull my hair out, because some imbecile made a mistake."

"I know," Ginny whispered, suddenly feeling ashamed of herself. This needy feeling that had developed in her lately was quite disturbing and not at all in character for the strong willed witch.

"I promise it won't happen every night."

Ginny nodded somewhat miserably.

"Come around here." Draco moved his chair back from the desk and patted his lap.

As Ginny got close enough, Draco reached out and gently pulled her into his lap. He wrapped his arms around her and buried his head in her hair. She smelled so good and felt even better. He beat down the desire to carry her up to their chambers and distract himself from the work he had to do in the most pleasant way possible.

They sat in silence enjoying the closeness and warmth of the other until a brief knock at the door broke the spell that enveloped them.

"I thought you'd be working," Lucius drawled as he entered the room.

"I am," Draco responded with barely concealed irritation.

Lucius raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Really?"

"I'll leave you to it," Ginny whispered.

"I'll be up as soon as I get this finished," Draco promised. He pulled her closer and kissed her deeply. "Goodnight, love."

"Goodnight." Ginny paused as she rounded her husband's desk. "Goodnight, Lucius."

Lucius inclined his head politely. "Ginevra."

Draco watched his wife walk to the door and let herself out. They'd come very close to having an almighty row this evening. How they didn't was a mystery to him, but he was thankful.

"Trouble?" Lucius enquired as he made himself comfortable in a visitors' chair.

"No," Draco muttered distractedly, pulling his gaze back to the files on his desk.

* * *

Millie was waiting for Ginny in the corridor near the master chambers. The house elf informed her mistress that both children were sleeping soundly and had given her no trouble. Ginny quickly dismissed the servant after assuring her she was not in need of anything at the moment and continued to her chambers.

She glanced around the room, her room, and sighed heavily. It was too early to go to bed alone, Draco was busy, and she didn't feel like seeking out Narcissa's company after the erratic day they'd had. The family parlor wasn't inviting when she was in this mood either, the room was large and would only enhance her feeling of loneliness.

A deep feeling of isolation threatened to engulf her, but before her welling eyes could spill a tear she pushed the feeling aside. She would not allow herself to fill with self-pity. Draco had to work, so she would have to entertain herself this evening.

Not really thinking any further ahead than what she was about to undertake, Ginny moved with purpose to the bathroom. She'd take a long relaxing bath to start with and then perhaps she'd curl up with a good book while waiting for Draco.

After an hour long soak in the tub, Ginny curled up on the sofa with her book. Even though it was still relatively early and she truly didn't expect Draco so soon, Ginny still looked expectantly at the door every time she heard a noise. Just once Millie popped in with a cup of tea and a piece of shortbread for her. When Ginny began to grow uncomfortable on the sofa she moved herself into the enormous bed.

In the early hours of the morning, Draco quietly let himself into the master suite. He was exhausted. As he expected, Ginny was sound asleep. Her book lay open beside her. Draco cautiously removed the book from her lax grasp and kissed her forehead. He'd disappointed her this evening and as he prepared for bed, he vowed he'd spend tomorrow evening with her no matter what demands the office put upon him.

* * *

****

**_AUTHORS NOTES_**

_Huge thanks to Rainpuddle13 for her sensational beta skills and plot discussions. Thank you to everyone who reviewed!_


	4. Lessons in Infancy

**_Disclaimer_**_: I don't own any of the characters you may recognize from the wonderful world of Harry Potter, they all belong to the revered JK Rowling; I just like to play with them a little._

**CHAPTER FOUR**

**LESSONS IN INFANCY**

It wasn't enough that Draco had arranged a Portkey for them, Ginny insisted one of them had to be in the foyer to greet Bill and his family. Draco tried to tell her it was entirely appropriate with a house the size of the manor to have a servant answer the door and escort the guests to the parlor, but she wouldn't hear of it. So there he was, lurking in the foyer, waiting for Bill and his brood.

Just when he thought his sanity might begin to fray, due to boredom, there was a knock at the front door. Draco schooled his features into a pleasant expression as he crossed the foyer. Before he reached the doors a servant popped into the space right in front of the doors and opened them as usual.

"Bill, Fleur, good to see you. Come in." His voice startled the house elf, but Draco continued anyway. He stood back and beckoned the family to enter the house. "Hello, kids."

Beau and Courtney were too busy staring at their surrounds to reply. Eloise gave him a shy smile and a giggle.

Fleur moved two-month-old Henri to her other hip and leaned in to kiss Draco's cheek. "Draco, thank you for inviting us."

Bill held his hand out and as Draco shook it he leaned forward. "You've got a Wizard's Wireless, haven't you?"

"Bill!" Fleur sent her husband a warning look. "We talked about this. It won't kill you to miss one match."

Rather than get caught in the middle of a domestic disagreement Draco changed the subject. "Why don't we move through to the parlor? Ginny and the twins are waiting."

Draco led the way to the southern wing. Ginny had decided to use the family parlor rather than one of the formal entertaining areas tonight and with the children in attendance Draco had to agree. As they approached the parlor a blond head poked out and peered down the hallway.

"Mummy, they're here! They're here!"

"All right, calm down, Drake," Ginny said amusedly. The twins had been anxious for the arrival of their first guests in their new home all day. Ginny had lost count how many times they'd asked her how much longer they had to wait. "Remember you have to say hello properly before you run off and play."

Drake rolled his eyes at his mother. Didn't she realize that waiting around for Aunt Fleur to kiss him was not only disgusting it ate into their valuable playtime? "Yes, Mummy."

The moment Bill saw his sister he opened his arms ready to embrace her. "Gin, how are you?"

"I'm good, and you?"

"Good." Bill lowered his voice before continuing, "Still amazed all this is yours."

Ginny smiled at him. She still had to pinch herself occasionally just to make sure this wasn't some fairytale dream.

"Are you going to let anyone else say hello?" Fleur asked as she passed Henri to his father.

"Sorry," Bill mumbled as Henri's little hand slipped into his open mouth.

While the women greeted each other Draco quietly garnered Bill's attention and pointed the Wizard's Wireless out to him. Bill's big grin and mouthed 'excellent' well and truly conveyed his approval.

With their parents otherwise occupied, Drake and Beau began to inch towards the open patio doors. Both little boys were bursting with energy and they knew if they could just get outside everyone might just forget about saying hello properly. They'd just reached the threshold, thinking they'd escaped the indignity of being slobbered over by their respective Aunts when Bill's voice interrupted their progress.

"Neither of you have said hello properly."

Drake and Beau groaned in unison. They knew they'd have to wait until very last to be spoken to now, especially since Ginny already had baby Henri in her arms.

"Come on, back over here and say hello or you won't be going outside," Draco added.

With softly grumbled protests, the little wizards wandered to where their father's were waiting for them.

Drake offered his small hand to his Uncle. "Hello, Uncle Bill."

"Hello, Drake."

Beau tugged on Draco's arm. "Hello, Uncle Draco."

"Beau." Draco picked the little boy's hand up and made a big deal of shaking it firmly.

"Go and say hello to Aunt Ginny, Beau," Bill instructed.

The little boy almost opened his mouth to ask, _do I have to, _but snapped it shut when he saw his father's uncompromising expression. He dragged his feet to the other side of the room. His Aunt was cooing over his baby brother, so she wasn't going to be in any hurry to pay attention to him.

"Drake, you too. Go and say hello to your Aunt Fleur."

Drake gazed wistfully outside. Even if he could say hello quickly he'd have to wait for Beau and by the looks of it his mummy was busy.

"After you've done the right thing then you can go out and play," Draco assured him.

Drake wandered over to his Aunt. He endured her kissing him twice without wiping either cheek with the back of his hand and he resisted the urge to roll his eyes when she started telling everyone how handsome he was becoming. As soon as she paused for a breath, Drake quickly moved back to stand beside Beau, who was still waiting to get Ginny's attention.

The boys waited silently for some minutes. They were both aware their playtime was being wasted, but neither was brave enough to attempt another escape. Big family gatherings were far better in their opinion — no one ever noticed if you skipped out on saying hello to go and play.

When his mother showed no sign of acknowledging their presence Drake dared to interrupt her silly 'conversation' with Henri. "Mummy, can you _please_ say hello to Beau, so we can go play?"

"Sorry, boys, I thought you were waiting to see Henri," Ginny responded lightly.

Drake screwed his face up in disgust. "He doesn't do anything."

"Not yet."

"Are you looking forward to meeting your baby brother or sister, Drake," Fleur asked.

"Nope. Mummy, can you say hello _now_?"

"All right." Ginny passed Henri back to his mother and began making a fuss of Beau.

The little boy foolishly wiped his Aunt's kiss from his cheek the moment she drew back far enough for his hand to slip between them. This, of course, meant his torture was prolonged, and by the time Ginny released him nothing short of a full face scrub would have removed all the kisses she'd bestowed upon his face.

As fast as their small legs could carry them, the two boys ran outside. Beau wisely waited until he was well out of his Aunt's sight before he wiped his face dry.

"You two stay where we can see you," Bill called from the doorway.

"They can't wander far," Draco informed him. "We've set a ward around a generous portion of the area in front of the patio to keep them safe."

"Good. I'd hate to think what those two would get up to if they had roaming rights."

"Yeah," Draco chuckled. He hadn't thought of the havoc the Weasley cousins could inflict if given no boundaries. "Ginny insisted we enclose some of the yard, because of the size and the lake."

"It pays to give them somewhere specific to play."

"At least they can come outside now without Ginny."

"She wouldn't let them?"

"No, and it drove Drake mad all week." Draco pulled out two chairs from the outdoor table and offered one to Bill. The moment the men sat down a servant appeared with two bottles of Mead.

"She never worries about it at Mum and Dad's."

"I pointed that out. Apparently there's nothing dangerous in the field behind your parent's house because she played there as a child."

Bill shook his head. "Best not to argue with women's logic."

"I'm learning that."

"Only now?" Bill snorted with laughter.

"I never had to deal with them past breakfast," Draco replied defensively.

"Okay I'll give you that. You and Gin did happen faster than usual."

Draco rubbed the back of his neck pensively. "Yeah we did."

"Regrets?"

"No, none at all. Ginny's the best thing that ever happened to me."

"Good to hear." Bill considered his brother-in-law for a moment. "So is everything going all right?"

"Yeah, of course," Draco responded a little too quickly.

"If you say so."

"Just a few teething problems—minor things."

Bill nodded thoughtfully. There was always a myriad of small things that made life a little interesting in a new marriage. He remembered when he and Fleur had first returned from their honeymoon, they hadn't spoken to each other for a week over some silly difference of opinion that he couldn't even recall now.

"We sorted it all out anyway."

"Good."

The men relaxed in their chairs, sipped their Mead and watched their boys running around the yard; soon after the women joined them at the table. Ginny had reclaimed Henri and was cradling him in her arms.

"Where are the girls?" Draco asked curiously.

"Angel took them to the playroom," Ginny answered.

"Are they all right on their own?" Bill asked.

"Yes, they're fine and Millie is with them."

"Millie?"

"House elf."

"She's very experienced with children," Draco offered.

"It must be wonderful to have servants at your beck and call," Fleur said wistfully. She'd grown up in a privileged home and had an army of servants at her disposal until she moved to London. Bill earned enough to provide his family with a comfortable lifestyle, but servants were not part of that life.

"I'm still getting used to them. Most of the time I just go ahead and do everything, because it's easier."

"They're there to help, love," Draco said gently. Ginny had created quite a stir with the servants during the week when she made their bed before going down to breakfast one morning.

"Yes I know." She was still smarting from the talking to Draco had given her after she upset the house elves.

"You should be making the most of it, Ginny," Bill pointed out.

"That's exactly what I keep telling her," Draco said.

"Are you two quite finished?"

"Umm— Yeah I'm finished. How about you, Draco?"

"For now." He smirked cheekily across the table.

Ginny rolled her eyes at him and gave her undivided attention to the squirming baby in her arms. "I think you might be getting hungry, little man."

As if in response Henri buried his little face in Ginny's chest, trying mightily to latch on to her.

"He's a healthy eater," Fleur commented as she reached for her son.

Draco stared in barely disguised horror as his sister-in-law began to feed the baby. It was one thing to witness this at the Burrow where there were a lot of people to distract him, but this was his home and there was only the four of them. He couldn't exactly wander away, like he usually did, without being obvious.

"Draco, is everything all right?" Fleur had felt his eyes on her from the moment she put Henri to the breast.

"Err—umm—" Draco couldn't get his mouth to function properly when his brain was screaming at him about exposed breasts. "I—err—Fine."

"My feeding Henri isn't making you uncomfortable, is it?"

"Of course it isn't," Ginny answered for him. "How could something so beautiful make anyone uncomfortable?"

Draco bit his tongue. He didn't trust himself to respond, especially after Ginny's comment.

Bill's hand landed heavily on Draco's shoulder. "You'd better get used to it, mate. If your new one is anything like Drake was Ginny will be feeding around the clock."

Unable to stop himself in time, Draco's eyes popped wide open. He'd definitely have to have a word with Ginny about appropriate times and settings to feed the baby. There was no way he was going to tolerate her sitting with an audience while she exposed herself.

Fleur leaned over to Ginny. "I can go inside if Draco's really uncomfortable."

"Don't be silly. He can't see anything with the blanket covering you. It's just the thought of what's going on. He's not used to being around babies."

"He'd better get used to it." Fleur laughed softly.

"He will; he just needs a little time."

"So what are you hoping for?" Bill asked.

Draco frowned in confusion. "Excuse me?"

"Boy or a girl?"

"Oh—" Draco cringed as Henri made a particularly loud slurping noise. "I'd like a little girl."

"There's nothing quite like having a little princess to protect. Another Daddy's little girl."

"If we're lucky enough she'd be my first. Angel is most definitely her grandfather's little princess."

"We noticed she had Lucius twisted around her little finger pretty tightly when you were away."

Ginny snorted with laughter. "Tight? I doubt he dares to breath without her permission."

"He doesn't exactly offer Drake the same... for want of a better word, devotion," Bill said carefully. He'd debated whether he should mention his observations or not. The whole thing could blow up in his face very easily.

"What do you mean?"

"I saw them shopping in Diagon Alley one day. Angel just had to look sideways at something and it was on the counter being paid for, yet Drake had to almost beg to get your father to part with a few sickles. If your mother hadn't been there I doubt Lucius would have bought Drake anything. It just seemed a little unfair."

Draco nodded thoughtfully. "I'll have a word to him. Make certain there wasn't an underlying reason. Father can be harsh at times. A lot is expected of Drake — he'll be the head of the family one day, take over the company. It's important he learns to be strong and unaffected."

"He's only five."

"Bill, it's not like he misses out. He has more than most kids, more than your kids. My father has very definite views on how children should be brought up."

"Do enlighten me."

"Girls are to be spoiled and pampered, they should never want for anything."

"He makes that obvious."

"There's method to his madness." Draco smirked. "A female who has everything she could ever want will never feel the need to wander or leave."

Bill grinned. "Okay, but he does know eventually it won't work."

"I'm sure he lives in fear of the day."

"And boys?"

"Boys are to be made into men. Strong uncompromising leaders."

"So denying Drake what he wants while he watches his sister being showered with gifts is a way to achieve this?"

"I didn't say it was how I viewed the situation. My father is set in his beliefs, but that doesn't mean Drake misses out. My mother would have more than made up for everything Angel received."

"Your mother?"

"Yes, you see there's a balance. Father spoils Angel and Mother spoils Drake. Neither misses out."

"What about you?"

"I treat them the same on a material level. On an emotional level Angel probably gets more, but that's only because Drake isn't that way inclined."

"All right."

"Are we going to be discussing how my children are being raised every time one of you thinks something isn't fair?"

"Only if it's something major. Look you were away and I didn't know if you were aware of what was going on." Bill paused for a moment to consider his next words carefully. "The thing is we've all looked out for Ginny and the twins for so long it's a little hard to just let go."

"So you're all going to be butting in whenever you see fit?"

"We don't see it as butting in. There's nothing wrong with family looking out for one another."

"No there's not, but there is such a thing as overstepping boundaries."

"None of us want to do that, and you're free to tell us to get nicked if you feel that way."

"Why do I feel that telling any of you lot that would be a waste of my time?"

"Because it would and I'd watch the 'you lot' bit from now on."

"Why is that?"

"You're included in the family and so one of _'you lot'_."

"Thanks for reminding me."

"You're welcome." Bill grinned broadly. "There are advantages to being part of a large family who look out for each other."

"I suppose you're going to enlighten me."

"It means you don't have to do it all on your own. Like that situation with Drake when you got engaged — you had the support of the whole family. Sometimes it's good to have the additional input. Of course, there are times when you wish everyone would just sod off and let you get on with it."

"All right I admit your help with Drake was good in that instance. I don't think—I know I wouldn't have had him sorted out so quickly on my own."

"We're all willing to lend a hand whenever you need it and most likely at times you don't want it as well."

Draco had been so caught up in the conversation with his brother-in-law that he was most surprised to see Fleur had Henri sitting up. The infant was gurgling to himself while his mother patted his back rather rigorously, in Draco's opinion. After an extremely loud belch for a baby, Fleur and Ginny praised the little one profusely.

A few moments later another rather wet sounding burp came from the infant.

"Fleur, he err—" Draco had to pause and swallow the bile rising from his own stomach. "You might want—"

"Love, you'd better wipe him clean before Draco loses his lunch," Bill said with amusement.

"Didn't you want that bit, sweetheart?" Fleur crooned as she wiped Henri clean.

"Obviously not," Draco muttered sarcastically.

An almighty rush of high-pitched squeals assaulted everyone's ears as the girls ran out of the house. Bill managed to grab a hold of Courtney as she passed him. He was busy chastising her for running in the house when more urgent screams invaded their peace.

Draco had never seen three people move so quickly. Bill, Fleur and Ginny had all flown over to Eloise. The toddler was sprawled in an ungainly position on the lawn. She'd tripped going down the two steps from the patio and had flipped in the air before landing on her back. It had all happened so fast Draco couldn't quite figure out how he managed to be holding Henri now.

The noise Eloise was making bordered on painful and Draco screwed his face up in protest. Henri was no happier at being dumped on his inexperienced uncle's lap and began to make his displeasure known.

"Fleur, the baby—"

"For goodness sakes, Draco, just talk to him," Ginny snapped impatiently.

Draco looked at the miniature wizard on his knee. What did one say to a baby? "Hello, Henri."

It seemed that was not the right thing to say to a baby, because Henri's efforts to get his mother's attention doubled.

"Just pop him on your shoulder and jiggle him a little; that should calm him down," Bill called over the din.

Draco started to carefully move Henri to rest on his shoulder.

"Watch his head, Draco," Ginny yelled.

"I am!"

The look he received from his wife told him he most definitely hadn't been careful enough. Rather than dispute the fact, Draco readjusted his hold on the infant and successfully deposited him on his shoulder. Not that it made any difference to the crying baby.

"You need to stand up, Daddy," Drake advised from beside him.

"Stand up?" Draco looked at his five-year-old son skeptically.

"Yep, that's what Uncle Ron does with Pippa and Scarlet, and they always stop crying."

With no more advice coming from the other adults, Draco stood up and began moving around slowly. Henri stopped crying almost immediately. Draco smirked. Victory was his. However, Draco's triumphant feeling was short lived. His face morphed into a disgusted expression when he felt a very warm trail snaking down his back.

"Ewww yuck," Drake expressed loudly. The little boy's face held an identical expression to that of his father's.

"Don't just stand there, Drake," Draco said irritably.

"Draco, don't jiggle him so much, he'll be sick," Ginny called.

Draco glared at the group on the lawn. "Thanks for telling me," he growled. "Drake, pass me that cloth over there."

The little boy wandered over with painful slowness. "This one?"

"Yes." Draco frowned, then screwed up his face in utter repugnance. It seemed Henri wasn't quite finished purging his small body; only this time it wasn't his top end with the problem. Some very sloppy sounds were coming from the tiny wizard's bottom. "Bloody hell!"

Drake stood ready to pass his father the cloth. "Daddy, why is Henri's face red?"

"He's concentrating _really_ hard," Draco snapped.

Beau sniggered behind his hand. "No he's not. He's doing a poo."

"Thanks, Beau," Draco muttered. He wished he could move his hand away from the baby's rear end, but if he did he didn't feel his hold on the infant would be secure enough. This was nothing short of torture.

He looked towards the lawn where Eloise was still screaming like a banshee. There was little hope of any help from the others until they'd sorted the toddler out. Draco began to notice his hand was growing warm. He could only hope that nothing was leaking from the baby's diaper. He honestly didn't think his stomach would hold if it were.

At long last the group on the lawn began to move. Eloise was still howling, but they were making progress in the right direction—Draco's.

"We'll just clean Eloise up, love," Ginny said as she got close enough.

"You don't need to go in."

"I have to show them the way to the bathroom."

"I can do that."

"It's fine, you've got Henri."

"You could—"

"Be back soon."

They were gone before he could protest further. He gazed around hopelessly. Angel and Courtney were playing in the yard. Drake and Beau, though hovering nearby, were engaged in some little boy conversation. How had this happened? He was alone with five children and there was no one close by to help him if need be.

For some reason unbeknownst to Draco, Henri began to wail heartily. He tried walking around and bouncing him lightly to no avail. The baby wouldn't stop.

"Boys, can you go and get one of the women? I don't know what's wrong with Henri."

"Okay, Daddy."

"Good boys. Try the closest bathroom or summon Millie, she should know where they are."

The minutes seemed to drag on forever. Henri continued to howl no matter how much Draco walked or bounced or talked to him. If only he could work out what the baby wanted then he might have a chance of restoring the peace.

Just when it seemed they were never going to return Drake and Beau came into sight. Much to Draco's horror they were alone.

"Mummy said Henri's bag is in the parlor and you should change his nappy, because that's probably what's wrong with him," Drake informed him matter-of-factly.

"What? I can't change— I don't know how!" Draco didn't know whether to be flabbergasted or horrified. He knew what was most likely lurking in his nephew's nappy and he was not about to willingly make a confirmed sighting. "Millie!"

The elderly house elf Apparated beside her master and looked expectantly at him.

"Mummy also said you're not allowed to get Millie to change Henri."

"Why?"

Drake shrugged in response. He was only delivering the message and mummy didn't say why.

"Go and tell Mummy I need her _now_!"

"She's helping Aunt Fleur."

"I don't care. I need her now."

Drake sighed affectedly. The downstairs bathroom was noisier than out here. Eloise could scream louder than Angel and that was too loud for him to want to return to where she was. He wandered back inside slowly.

"Drake, hurry," Draco urged. Henri's wailing was becoming more raucous by the minute. The sound was disturbing Draco greatly.

Within minutes Ginny came stalking through the parlor. "What is the problem, Draco? We have our hands just a little full with Eloise at the moment."

"Henri won't stop bawling."

"Change his nappy. From what the boys told Fleur, he's more than likely filled it."

"Ginny, I don't change nappies."

She rolled her eyes impatiently. "Well it's about time you started and Fleur doesn't want a house elf she doesn't know touching him."

Draco watched his wife turn on her heel to leave him alone with the discontent infant again. "Ginny, I can't change him— I—I don't know how."

Ginny stopped in the doorway and turned to face Draco. "What?"

"I've never changed a baby. I've never even held a baby until today."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake." This shouldn't have surprised her. "Give him here."

Draco passed Henri over as fast as he dared. "I'll just—"

"No you don't. You're not sneaking off."

"But I—"

"You're going to watch and learn."

"I don't—"

"Come on, you can get me Henri's bag. It's over on the chair."

Even though his mind was protesting loudly Draco's feet obeyed his wife's words. "There's two here, Ginny."

"Henri's is the blue one with the dragons on the design."

"Of course," Draco muttered. The other bag was bright pink with pictures of fairies, completely inappropriate for a wizard. "Here."

"There should be a blanket or something in there, lay it on the floor for me."

"You're not going to change him here!"

"The nearest change table is in the nursery and he's too worked up to make him wait any longer."

"A few more minutes won't matter, surely."

"Would you like to be sitting around in a shitty nappy for longer than you had to?"

The expression on Draco's face conveyed his utter disgust at the notion.

"Spread the blanket out," Ginny instructed firmly.

Against his better judgment Draco located the fluffy blue blanket covered in pictures of broomsticks and laid it on the floor.

Ginny spared no time laying her nephew on the blanket and beginning to strip him off. "Draco, get me a fresh nappy from the bag."

Draco fished around the bag again. "Here."

"I have my hand's full. Do you think you can fold it?"

"Sure." Draco folded the square cloth in half and then in half again. "Done!"

"Just put it down next to him." A cloth nappy landed next to Henri's kicking legs. "What is this?"

"A folded nappy."

"That's not how you fold a nappy! How the bloody hell can that go on a baby?"

"I told you I know nothing."

Ginny began to mutter tetchily under her breath. Draco wasn't overly enamored with some of the words that drifted up to his ears. With his wife now becoming angry, he decided it might be time to make a hasty exit.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Umm—the boys haven't come back from the bathroom."

"Drake is showing Beau his bedroom."

"I'll just see how they're getting along."

"Oh, no you don't. You're staying right here and you're going to learn how to do this." Ginny paused to glower at her husband's expression. "Even if it kills you."

"It probably will," Draco mumbled.

"Get down here on the floor. You can talk to Henri while I clean him up."

Draco considered his options for a moment. He could refuse and walk out of the room, thus endangering his place in their marital bed until she calmed down, or he could accommodate her request. One look at her face to gauge the impact escaping would have on his well being made Draco's mind up immediately. He dropped his tall frame to the floor with an irritated huff for effect.

Ginny smiled cruelly at him. "Watch what I do."

_If I have to,_ Draco thought to himself, but didn't dare voice. Instead he forced a smile for Ginny's benefit.

As Ginny was removing Henri's dirty nappy she babbled away to the infant, having a one sided nonsensical conversation. Draco sighed affectedly. This was ridiculous. It wasn't difficult to change a nappy; he simply had no desire to try his hand at the task. Even so, his eyes didn't leave his wife's hands, taking in all she was doing, so she'd have nothing to complain about later.

"Oh god." Draco's hand flew up to cover his nose and mouth as he fought to keep the contents of his stomach where they were.

Ginny rolled her eyes at his antics. "For Merlin's sake, Draco, it doesn't smell."

"It would have to!" The muffled response from the sickly looking wizard would have been funny if it weren't so pathetic. "What does his mother feed him?"

"Breast milk and that doesn't smell." Ginny shook her head at him and withdrew her wand. A quickly whispered charm banished all signs of the mess. "Talk to Henri while I fold his nappy the right way."

Draco looked at his wife incredulously. What did it matter if he spoke to the child or not? It wasn't like he'd respond.

"Draco!" Ginny's tone brokered no argument.

Not silly enough to disregard her warning Draco leaned over, close to Henri's head and began to hold a one-sided conversation. Much to his amazement, and secret delight, Henri happily cooed back at him.

"I think he likes you," Ginny commented.

"What's not to like?"

"Your impossibly over inflated ego," she pointed out good naturedly. "Seeing as the two of you are getting along so well now, I might just check on how Bill and Fleur are going with Eloise."

"What about his nappy?"

"He enjoys a kick without his pants on. Just keep talking to him." Ginny started out of the room slowly, waiting for Draco to launch a protest, but it didn't come.

"I guess we can let Aunt Ginny do that, can't we, little one?"

Ginny paused just outside the door to listen to more of the animated chat Draco was having with their nephew. Several times she had to muffle her giggles, especially when Draco began talking of Quidditch teams in a singsong tone. So captivated with the conversation she was eavesdropping upon, she failed to hear Bill and Fleur approach with a now calm Eloise.

"Gin, what are—"

"Shh, come here."

"What?" Bill whispered.

"Draco is talking to Henri. It's so sweet."

The group listened in on the conversation for a few minutes.

"What's sweet about him telling my son the Canons are useless?" Bill growled softly before striding into the parlor. "Don't listen to him, son. The Canons will regain their former success."

"That's what we call delusional," Draco said to Henri. The baby gurgled happily at the attention. "See he agrees with me." Draco's smirk transformed into a frown then, as he realized what had happened, a look of utter repugnance.

Bill laughed heartily. "That's what he really thinks of you calling his old man delusional."

Draco looked down at his freshly wet leg and the small puddle beside it with revulsion. "He—he—"

"Draco, it's only baby wee," Ginny said as she tried not to laugh.

"I have to go change," Draco muttered. "I smell."

"You don't smell."

"He vomited all over me before!"

"A little bit of spat up breast milk is not _all_ over you."

"Smells," Draco mumbled.

"It won't kill you," Ginny called after him as he left the parlor.

Fleur redressed her baby son and the group returned to the patio. Conversation flowed easily between the three adults. Bill made some no-so-discreet enquiries about the teething problems Draco had hinted at earlier. Ginny assured her brother that all had been settled and there was nothing to be concerned about or to tell the rest of the family. By the time Draco returned to the patio, hors d'oeuvres had been served. As he took his seat a servant appeared beside him with a fresh bottle of Mead.

"You were a while," Ginny commented casually.

"Took a shower," Draco admitted. He could still smell baby sick and hoped it wasn't emanating from his body.

Bill sniggered into his bottle. The confession from his brother-in-law didn't come as a surprise or a shock. He didn't need to be told the man was fastidious; it was more than obvious. It made him wonder how much time Draco would be spending in the shower when his own baby arrived.

"Thank you for looking after Henri while we were with Eloise, Draco," Fleur said genuinely.

"It was... interesting." Draco smiled across the table. "Is Eloise all right?"

"She'll live," Bill answered casually.

The toddler in question was snuggling on her father's lap. There was a sizeable egg on her forehead that was already turning a nasty shade of violet.

"That's one hell of a bump."

"All part of being two, isn't it, Eloise?"

The little girl sniffed and buried her face in her father's chest.

"It looks nasty," Draco stressed.

"It's nothing that won't heal in time," Bill assured him. "You should have seen the scrapes and bruises Drake earned himself at the same age."

Between Bill, Fleur and Ginny they told Draco about some of the situations his son had found himself in around the age of two. As one story lead to another Draco was almost relieved he'd missed that era in his son's life. Some of the incidents they were describing were horrifying and he was about to say so when Millie appeared beside his chair.

"Yes?"

"Master did ask Millie to inform Master when Quidditch game is about to begin."

"Excellent," Bill expressed quietly.

"Ladies, we'll leave you to your tea," Draco said as he stood.

"We're having dinner in half an hour," Ginny warned.

"Yes, love."

Bill attempted to place his daughter on her feet. "Eloise, why don't you go play with the girls?"

The little girl shook her head.

"Come on, baby, Daddy wants to listen to the Quidditch with Uncle Draco."

Eloise shook her head again and tightened her grip around her father.

"Take her in with you, Bill," Ginny advised. "There's no point upsetting her again."

"Doesn't look like I have much choice," Bill muttered.

"Just watch your language," Fleur warned. She knew how loud her husband could get when the game wasn't going to his liking.

"Yes, dear."

"I mean it, Bill. No cussing."

"No cussing I promise."

The men disappeared into the parlor just as Drake and Beau wandered back outside.

"Mummy, you should see Drake's room. He's got his own bathroom and everything," Beau exclaimed excitedly.

"Isn't he lucky?"

"Wish I could have a room like that."

"I was going to show you through our wing," Ginny said.

"I'd love a tour."

"We'll leave Henri with the boys and I'll show you around before dinner."

"That would be wonderful," Fleur responded enthusiastically.

"Millie!" Ginny waited for the servant to appear. "Can you keep an eye on the children?"

"Yes, Mistress."

When the women reached the doorway, Ginny stopped Fleur. Bill's arms were still occupied with Eloise, so Draco was the only option to take Henri. She knew he wouldn't be pleased and may even protest, so the transfer would have to be handled with delicate brutality.

"Give Henri to me. I've probably got a better chance of leaving him with Draco without him protesting."

"I could just take him with us," Fleur offered. "If Draco's not willing there's no point in forcing him."

"Don't be silly. It won't kill him to hold Henri for a little while and Bill's right there if he has a problem."

"If you're sure it won't cause a problem."

"Positive." Ginny grinned at her sister-in-law confidently. She was almost convinced Draco wouldn't cause a scene in front of their guests even if he was displeased.

With determination Ginny walked across the room. "I'm giving Fleur the grand tour before dinner."

"Okay, love," Draco answered absently. He was far too preoccupied with the game on the Wizard's Wireless to notice his wife was holding their nephew.

"You be a good boy for Uncle Draco, Henri," Ginny said as she placed the baby in her husband's unsuspecting arms. Just as she thought, his arms automatically moved to accommodate the infant before he truly registered what was going on.

"Err—Gin?"

"We'll be back soon," she called over her shoulder on her way out the door with Fleur.

Draco looked at the bundle in his arms like it was a stink bomb. How was he supposed to listen to the game with a baby in his arms? It was totally inappropriate.

"He doesn't bite, yet," Bill chuckled. "No teeth."

Draco sent him a withering glare. Just because he was accustomed to listening to the Quidditch with kids everywhere didn't mean everyone was. Still it wasn't like he had any other choice right now, so he settled back in his chair and tried to concentrate on the game.

_"Wadcock - Davies... intercepted by Cadwallader. He's flying solo up the northern side of the stadium — if the Canons could attract more players like this fellow they'd have half a chance of winning a game sometime in the next century. The Puddlemere Beaters are having a time of catching him... This boy is destined for the National team if he keeps flying this way. Wood is ready at the hoops... Cadwallader will have a hard time getting anything past this seasoned keeper. What's this? Gudgeon is Blatching! He's just flown straight into Wood! Most unusual play from a Seeker! Wood appears to be in trouble... He wasn't expecting the Cannons Seeker to start playing the part of a Beater... Yes, he's definitely in trouble... I don't like the way he's slumped over his broom, folks..."_

Draco abruptly sat forward in his chair and yelled in the direction of the Wizard's Wireless. "Come on umpire that's common brutality! Call it!"

Henri's little arms and legs sprung out for his body as shock registered. He began to whimper.

"Bloody hell!" Draco threw Bill a helpless look.

"Just pat his backside and talk to him softly," Bill advised offhandedly.

"Shh, I'm sorry, little mate. I didn't mean to give you a fright," Draco crooned. "Where is your Aunt Ginny? She's going to be in so much trouble when she gets back."

Much to Draco's surprise Henri settled down right away. The infant was rapt with the sound of Draco's voice.

"Keep going," Bill urged quietly.

While he was trying to listen to the game, Draco continued to talk softly to Henri, explaining just what he was going to do to the baby's aunt when she returned, and his hand absently patted the baby's bottom.

"You're going to do what to me?" Ginny said softly from behind Draco's chair.

"It's about time," Draco groused. "Henri got upset when I yelled at the umpire."

"Did he hear you?"

"Of course he did, he's in my arms."

"The umpire?"

"Very funny, Ginevra." Draco curled his lip at her. Women just didn't understand the role of the Quidditch supporter. "Now if you wouldn't mind unburdening me, we men can get back to listening to the game properly."

"You haven't looked at Henri lately, have you?"

"What?" Draco hadn't so much as glanced at his nephew for a good ten minutes. While his mouth kept uttering painful torture plans for his wife in a soft melodious tone his eyes had been fixated on the Wizard's Wireless.

"Don't look at me. Have a look at what you've done."

Tendrils of fear snaked down his spine and against his better judgment Draco glanced at the infant in his arms. "He's asleep."

"Yes, all thanks to you," Fleur said happily. "Now I might get to eat a meal in peace."

"I'll set the portable crib up," Bill offered placing a not very happy toddler on her feet.

Eloise's arms went straight up, trying to entangle with her father's body. "Daddy."

Bill expertly negotiated his way past the clingy toddler. "In a moment, pumpkin. Daddy has to set up Henri's bed."

Not happy at being abandoned, Eloise began to whimper. With no soothing cuddles coming willingly from anyone the little girl attached herself to the closest human body part she saw—Draco's legs.

Unable to remove the upset toddler without risking waking the baby Draco sat perfectly still and allowed her to cling to him. He could hear the other adults setting up the crib in the far corner. As the minutes passed Eloise's whimpering calmed to an occasional sniffle. Henri slept on, oblivious to the commotion in the corner or his older sister's miserable demeanor.

Draco found himself entranced with the slumbering infant. Every so often the little one's lips would smack together and he'd suckle the fresh air as if at his mother's breast. In between, small lopsided smiles would tug at the baby's mouth. The notion that there was nothing more innocent or beautiful in the universe became apparent to him and he was suddenly looking forward to the birth of his new child with renewed fervor.

"Draco," Bill called across the room. No response from the blond wizard could be heard. Bill crossed the room to where Draco was sitting. "Draco?"

"Yeah," Draco responded vaguely.

"Do you want to bring Henri over and put him down? It's easier if he's not passed from person to person."

"Sure, but I seem to have a new attachment."

Bill peered over the chair. "Eloise, come here sweetheart."

The toddler tightened her grip on Draco's leg.

"I don't think she's too keen to let go," Draco whispered.

"Sorry," Bill muttered as he walked around to Eloise. "Come on, pumpkin, Uncle Draco needs to get up."

"No," Eloise wailed.

"Eloise, I'm not kidding. Let go of Uncle Draco's leg now."

The toddler clung even tighter to Draco's leg, refusing to let go of her own volition. Bill growled discontentedly under his breath. He had two options left open to him at this stage. One would involve removing his daughter physically and risk having her scream the house down. The second was bribery.

Bill knelt down beside his youngest daughter. "Baby, if you let go of Uncle Draco and allow him to put Henri to bed then he can give you a proper cuddle."

Eloise's head lifted and she looked at Draco expectantly.

"Umm—err—" Draco's eyes flicked to Bill when the older wizard cleared his throat. Bill nodded meaningfully, almost begging Draco to play along. "Yes... just let me put Henri to bed and you can come sit on my knee. It's far more comfortable than my leg."

The pressure on his leg gradually decreased. He couldn't believe he'd just agreed to allow her to sit on his lap while he was trying to listen to the game.

"You're right to stand up, Draco," Bill prompted.

Very slowly Draco inched forward on his chair and stood up carefully. Henri seemed to be none the wiser for the change of position. Ginny was waiting by the crib to help him settle the infant.

When he reached the side of the crib Ginny instructed him to carefully lower Henri to the mattress. Draco managed to transfer the baby to the crib without waking him. He stood back while Ginny tucked the blankets around the baby's small body.

Henri squirmed a little and frowned deeply. Ginny quickly rubbed his back soothingly and he settled immediately.

"He's smiling," Draco whispered.

"No he's not, love."

"Yes he is, look!"

"He has wind, that's why it looks like he's smiling."

Draco gave his wife an unconvinced look.

"It's true, Draco."

"He's smiling," Draco said resolutely.

"Come on, dinner should have been served fifteen minutes ago." Ginny shook her head at her husband. There was no point in arguing with him when he sounded so convinced. He'd done well with the baby, but he obviously had a lot to learn.

They rejoined their guests on the other side of the room. Bill had a strong hold on Eloise's hand, but as Draco approached she wriggled free and ran to him. Her small arms went into the air instantly and she waited to be picked up.

"I should have warned you," Bill said. "Eloise never forgets a promise."

"Just my luck," Draco mumbled as his picked his niece up and sat her on his hip.

"Millie," Ginny called. "Can you have the children wash their hands for dinner please?"

"As Mistress wishes."

"Eloise, you need to wash your hands too. Go with the others," Fleur instructed.

"No!" The little girl flung her small arms around Draco's neck in a vice grip.

"Draco, love, why don't you take Eloise to the bathroom?" Ginny suggested lightly. "It'll save the drama."

With an innocent child in his arms, Draco couldn't tell Ginny exactly what he thought of her idea, but he did meet her hopeful gaze with a not very happy look.

"Go on, it'll save tears before dinnertime," Ginny urged.

Uncharitable thoughts flowed through his head as he left the parlor. He had no idea what was going on with the game and that irritated him to no end, adding a clingy child not of his own loins just made the situation worse.

Ginny listened to her husband grumble his way out of the room. She knew he wasn't happy, but it was hardly her fault the kids found him so intriguing.

"Shall we go through to the dining room?"

"Let's go, I'm starving," Bill announced.

Fleur looked positively aghast. "Bill!"

"Only stating the facts, sweetheart."

Ginny showed Bill and Fleur to the family dining room. The servants had been quite disturbed when she refused to use the formal dining room for this evening's meal. One even had the nerve to inform her that guests never ate in the family areas. She took perverse delight in informing the creature that she was Mistress of the Manor now and if she chose to have dinner served in her bathtub then the servants would comply without question or suffer her wrath. The servant in question scurried away, apologizing as it went.

When Ginny took her seat at the table a house elf appeared beside her chair.

"Mistress is ready to serve?"

"Not quite. I'll summon you when we are ready."

"Yes, Mistress." The creature vanished.

Within minutes, Drake wandered into the dining room.

"Drake, did you wash your hands?"

"Yes, Mummy."

"Show me."

Drake rolled his eyes impatiently. His mummy always had to check. Why couldn't she just believe him? He held his hands out for inspection.

Ginny frowned at her son. "Drake, how many times do I have to tell you to use soap and water? Just showing your hands to the faucet doesn't make them clean. Go back and wash them properly."

As he walked from the room the little wizard mumbled to himself about the injustices of being sent back when he was starving.

"He's so much like Draco," Fleur commented.

"Too much at times," Ginny agreed. "It's scary."

Over the next five minutes the other children began drifting into the dining room along with Draco. He sat a protesting Eloise in a chair and went directly to the head of the table.

"You sent Drake back to the bathroom?" Draco said to Ginny.

"He didn't actually wash his hands," she replied.

"He didn't?"

"Draco, you were in there. Why didn't you make him do it properly the first time?"

"I had my own problems."

"Oh?"

"It doesn't matter now, but I was sufficiently involved in my own dilemma to not notice how Drake washed his hands."

At that moment the subject of conversation wandered casually into the room. He was acutely aware all eyes were on him.

"Drake, come here," Draco beckoned. "Show me your hands."

"I washed them this time." He turned his hands over for his father.

"Take your seat."

Within moments of Ginny giving the order to serve the table was laden with food. Two servants stationed themselves near the children so their parents could enjoy the meal without disruption. Polite conversation gave way to the clatter of cutlery on china.

"Bloody buggering hell!"

Fleur looked at her oldest son with open horror. "Beau!"

"I spilled my pumpkin juice," Beau explained.

"You do not use that language _ever_."

"Why?"

"It's impolite and most unbecoming."

"Uncle Draco uses it."

All eyes traveled to Draco.

"Eloise splashed water down me," Draco said defensively.

Ginny quirked an eyebrow at her guilty husband and waited for him to continue.

"What was I meant to do? Tell her she's a good girl?"

Bill sniggered quietly to himself. He was very glad Draco had taken his youngest daughter to wash her hands. It would have been him getting in trouble now if he'd accompanied her.

"No, but something that didn't involve cursing would have been more appropriate," Ginny said patiently.

Draco muttered something under his breath, not meant for anyone else's ears, and resumed eating his meal. He wasn't happy with being chastised in front of the children.

Eloise was having a lot of fun with Millie who was hovering nearby. The little witch had discovered if she dropped her cutlery the house elf would pick it up immediately, clean it and pass it back to her — only to be dropped again the moment Millie stepped back. Even though Millie was becoming irritated with the child she wouldn't dare to chastise her. The other children were thought the little girl's antics were most amusing.

"Come on, you lot. Eat up," Ginny said sternly. "Eloise, Millie has better things to do than pick you knife and fork up all the time."

The little girl looked at her Aunt defiantly and dropped both pieces of cutlery to the floor, then giggled.

"Enough, Eloise," Fleur growled. "Millie won't be picking them up again."

The aging house elf looked to Ginny for confirmation.

"Millie, if she drops them again just leave them where they are until we're finished our meal," Ginny instructed wearily.

"As Mistress wishes," Millie muttered.

After another stern glance from Ginny, the children continued eating their meal with only the occasional giggle from the older boys. Ginny made a conscious note to herself to ensure the next dinner party they held was an adult only affair. She didn't think she'd have the patience to have god knows how many children at the table considering the rather long guest list sitting on her desk.

The moment both men had finished their main meal Draco pushed himself back from the table.

"Bill and I will take dessert in the parlor," he said authoritatively.

"Draco," Ginny responded in a low warning tone.

"Come on, love, we're missing the match."

"I told you we wouldn't be eating around a Quidditch match."

"You know, I never thought I'd see the day," Bill muttered and shook his head sorrowfully. "She's turning into Mum."

Ginny spun her deadly gaze on her oldest brother. "What?"

"Sorry, Ginny, but it's true. I can't pretend it's not," Bill said sadly.

"Pray tell, how am I turning into Mum?"

"Listen to yourself — _You must eat your dinner before you listen to the match_." Bill's impression of Molly Weasley's commanding tone had the children in fits of laughter. "The rest of the family is going to be devastated."

Draco sat at the head of the table in mute horror. Even though he'd only been married a few weeks, he knew you never compared your wife to her own mother unless you planned on not shagging for the rest of your life. His brother-in-law was destroying his life, marriage and everything he'd come to value. Even if Ginny now agreed to serve dessert in the parlor, how was he going to go without appearing to agree with Bill?

Ginny gaped at her brother for just a fraction of a second before narrowing her eyes and pinning him with a look that would have had Voldemort piddling his pants.

"You know there's only one way to prove you're not," Bill continued with clear disregard for his life. "Let Draco and I have dessert in the parlor, so we can listen to the match."

"I am _nothing_ like Mum," Ginny growled.

"So we can go and listen to the game then? Come on, Draco. She's likely to change her mind if we hesitate." Bill was on his feet and had walked to the doorway before Draco had dared to move.

Draco chanced the briefest of glances at his wife. She was well past furious, so despite what trouble it might find him in later, it was definitely safer to escape now before she exploded.

Bill was laughing as he dropped into a chair near the Wizard's Wireless. "Did you see her face?"

"Do you know what you've done?"

Bill sat up straight, looking extremely proud of himself. "Absolutely! I got us some time to enjoy the match without the women or children."

"You've had me kicked out of my bed!" Draco stared at the other man incredulously. "I'll be sleeping on the sofa forever!"

"Don't worry, mate, she'll calm down in a few days."

"A few days! We're bloody newlyweds! I shouldn't be relegated to the sofa yet."

"She's pregnant, so you'll be back in there in no time, if only for one reason."

Draco muttered unhappily to himself. It wasn't like he needed any help getting into trouble with Ginny; he did just fine on his own thank you very much.

"Why don't we drown your sorrows in some very old Firewhisky?"

"May as well," Draco sighed despondently. "I'm going to need something to keep me warm tonight."

Draco poured two very generous tumblers of the fiery liquid and passed one to his amused brother-in-law. He dropped his tall frame into his chair and tried to concentrate on the match. The Canons were well behind and only a miracle would see victory go their way — something along the line of the entire Puddlemere team walking off the pitch and allowing the Canons to score another ten goals before bothering with the Snitch would just about see the victory go their way.

"This match is lost." Bill sighed heavily as the announcer bellowed the score over the wireless.

"It was always going to be," Draco sniped.

Whether the result was inevitable or not made no difference to the men. They still sat in their comfortable chairs, drinking Firewhisky, and listening to the Wizard's Wireless.

By the time Ginny and Fleur joined the men in the family parlor, Draco had topped off Bill's glass several times. The aged liquor was sliding down very easily and both men were enjoying the treat immensely.

"Where are the kids?" Bill asked absently.

"All of them have gone to the playroom," Ginny answered, rolling her eyes at her sister-in-law. Neither of the men had registered what she'd said and she knew they wouldn't before she replied. She doubted they'd even noticed dessert wasn't sent in for them, much to the distress of the servants. "We'll sit over here, Fleur."

Ginny led Fleur to the other side of the room where two wing back chairs sat with a small occasional table between them. It was the perfect set up for nights like this when the men were engrossed in Quidditch and the women wanted to be in the same room, but not involved in the match. They sat quietly discussing the family and other topics over steaming cups of tea, pausing only every so often when shouts of either disgust or elation came from the other side of the room.

The hour grew late and the children were becoming increasingly irritable. Ginny knew if they didn't get to sleep soon they faced an all out war between the boys and an all in catfight between the girls. She glanced across to her husband and brother. They were undoubtedly drunk and getting louder with each additional mouthful of Firewhisky.

"Fleur, why don't you stay the night?"

"We couldn't."

"Of course you could. We've got the room and Bill is just about legless."

Fleur looked at her husband. Bill was leaning precariously towards Draco to whisper something in his ear and almost fell into the other wizards lap. "All right, we'll stay."

"Good." Ginny smiled warmly at her sister-in-law. "Let's get the kids to bed and then we can relax."

"All right." Fleur smiled gently. Portkey or not, it was a relief to not have to worry about how she was going to get four children and a drunk husband home on her own.

Ginny led Fleur upstairs with the five children in tow. Once in their corridor, she sent her own children to their rooms before assigning beds for her nieces and nephew. Little Henri would sleep beside Fleur in the room Ginny had told her she and Bill could use. With Millie posted at the end of the corridor as a sentinel the women made their way downstairs. They hoped all the children would be too tired to contemplate getting out of bed.

When the women reentered the parlor both the men were standing over Henri's portable crib. The infant was letting all of England know he was awake, but the wizards wisely chose not to pick him up after the amount of alcohol they'd both had.

"What's wrong with him?" Draco slurred in his wife's ear.

"He's hungry."

"Again?"

"Yes, Draco. Babies need to eat about every four hours or so when they're Henri's age."

"When does she sleep?"

"Who?"

"Fleur!"

Ginny almost snorted with laughter. Her husband's incredulous look was most amusing. "At night, in between feeds."

"She'd be exhausted." Draco regarded his sister-in-law with renewed respect.

"It's amazing what you can get used to," Ginny muttered quietly.

As soon as Fleur sat herself down and started to feed her son, Draco made a hasty retreat to the other side of the room. No matter how much admiration he had for the witch he was still uncomfortable watching her feed her son. It wasn't that he could claim to have seen anything indecent, far from it in fact, but the sounds that came from under the baby blanket just about drove him insane. He knew what was happening and that was quite enough to make him squirm.

Ginny ignored her husband's dash across the room and sat in the chair opposite Fleur. "Would you like another cup of tea?"

"Thank you that would be wonderful."

"And a glass of water?"

"If I don't you know your mother will be after me for neglecting myself." Fleur laughed lightly.

Within moments a fresh pot of tea and a large glass of iced water had arrived on the small table between the witches. Ginny dismissed the servant and poured the tea herself. The women picked up their conversation again, this time focusing on Ginny's pregnancy and plans for the new baby. She had yet to select a Midwitch, so Fleur gave her the name of the one she'd used for all four of her children along with others she knew by repute.

"I didn't like the Midwitch Ayna had at all. She was a nasty cow," Fleur stressed.

"Really? I never met her," Ginny responded with surprise. "Still she can't have been that bad if Anya liked her."

"I don't know that she did, but being in Hogsmeade I don't think she had much choice."

"How horrid for her. She never said anything."

"It would have only worried Charlie if she had. You know he would have insisted she change Midwitches, no matter how inconvenient it was at the time."

"I suppose," Ginny said thoughtfully. "All I know is I'm going to have to be careful. I can't see Narcissa keeping her mouth shut if she doesn't like my choice."

"You're lucky you don't have to worry about money. You can have whomever you want."

"I have a secret to tell you." Ginny leaned forward conspiratorially. "It's not all it's cracked up to be."

"How so?"

"If I don't chose the most expensive of everything I'm seen as being tied to my upbringing—afraid to spend."

"Nonsense! Just because something is a little cheaper it doesn't mean it's necessarily inferior."

"Tell my mother-in-law that."

"She does seem the type to take price over anything else."

"Believe me, she is."

A rather loud and final smacking sound came from the infant under the blanket. "Are all done for now, little man?"

"Give him here. I want a cuddle." Ginny held her arms out ready. "Hello, little man."

Fleur yawned widely as she fixed her top up and folded the blanket. "Excuse me. I think I'll have to head up to bed once I get Henri settled again."

"It has been a full day. I think I'll be joining you." Ginny patted her nephew's back firmly waiting for the loud belch for which the youngest member of the family had already become famous. "Good boy!"

While Fleur changed Henri's diaper, Ginny gave instructions to a servant to transport the infant's crib to the suite Fleur and Bill would be using for the evening. At this time of night there would be no allowing the little wizard to kick without his pants on, much to his displeasure.

"I might wander up and get Henri settled then go to bed myself," Fleur said quietly.

"I'll come up with you," Ginny offered. "I'm suddenly exhausted."

"Will the boys be all right down here?"

"I'll have a servant escort Bill to your room when he's ready."

"Thank you. I could just see him getting lost."

"Are you ready?"

"Yes, I think I'd best get this one settled before he decides it's playtime."

The women bid goodnight to the men and issued several warnings about further consumption of certain beverages before leaving the room. Of course the only response they received was a very slurred insincere 'yes, dear' from each of the men.

"Another?" Draco held the almost empty bottle of Firewhisky towards Bill.

"Don't mind if I do," Bill mumbled as he leaned forward, offering his tumbler.

Between drinks, thoughts of retiring for the evening were raised, but not acted upon by either wizard. Both were quite comfortable in their chairs, adding to their inebriated states while holding an almost inarticulate conversation.

A servant waited patiently by the door to escort Bill to his room when he was ready and to make certain his master reached his chambers unharmed. It was a wait that would see the clock strike the hour more than once.

Only when the bottle was empty, and they'd consumed a number of brandies in the name of having a nightcap, did the men deem it was time to join their wives in bed. Their journey from the parlor to their beds was one that would have provoked much humor to the curious bystander. Both men appeared to be victims of the Jelly-Leg Jinx, over balancing often and using each other for support. Their drunken laughter echoed through the corridors of the manor, followed by loud reminders from both of them to hush lest they wake someone.

At the double doors leading to Draco's suite he bid his brother-in-law a very loud good evening and left the other wizard to the servant tugging forcefully on Bill's sleeve. Draco let himself into the bedchamber. He tried mightily to be quiet and failed dismally. As he staggered past the bed, he caught his toe on the foot of the bedpost and went sprawling over the bed.

"Hello, love." Draco's foolish grin did nothing to endear him to his now angry wife.

"Can't you be quiet?"

"I tried."

"Not hard enough!"

"Don't be like that, love." Draco pouted pathetically at the witch in bed while his hands began to roam. "Why don't we stay up a bit longer?"

Ginny removed her husband's hands without delay. "No."

"You love me, don't you?"

"I love you more when you don't smell like the dregs tray at The Leaky Cauldron." Ginny grimaced as Draco expelled a large breath in her direction. "Just get ready for bed and go to sleep."

"Come on, love, I just want a little loving," Draco crooned drunkenly as his hands tried to roam again. "Let me show you how much I love you."

"Draco, go to sleep! You're not capable of even thinking about such things tonight."

"I feel—"

Ginny watched as Draco lowered his head to the bed. She prayed to the deities, hoping he wasn't about to be sick. What happened next was almost as bad. Her decorous husband let loose a belch that would have outdone any of her brothers on a bad day and it stank the entire room out.

"Draco!" Ginny tried not to gag as the smell of stale alcohol invaded her nostrils. She shoved his shoulder. "Draco, get ready for bed and for Merlin's sake brush your teeth before you come back."

When she received no response, Ginny was torn between feeling relieved and revolted. While she wouldn't have to deal with his roaming hands, he was going to smell a whole lot worse in the morning and she'd have to deal with that if her stomach would hold. She lay back down, fluffing her pillow angrily before dropping her head onto it and rolling on her side.

Just as her eyes drifted closed, Draco began to snore loudly. Ginny huffed irritably and rolled onto her other side. If he was anything like any of her brothers there was no point in trying to stop him in the condition he was in, he wouldn't even register her complaint.

* * *

The early morning peace of the manor was something Lucius and Narcissa cherished dearly. After breakfast they decided to take a leisurely walk by the lake. It was the perfect way to start a relaxing Sunday. The pleasant sounds of nature flowed around them until they were suddenly disturbed when they drew level with the southern wing of the grand house.

"What on earth is going on in there?" Narcissa expressed with concern.

"Wait here, dearest, I'll investigate." Lucius strode across the lawn towards his son's family parlor.

The closer he got to the building the more deafening the noise level became. It sounded as though a swarm of banshees had been let loose in the lower floors of the wing. Lucius entered the house through the parlor his son and daughter-in-law had named the family parlor. As best he could tell the din was coming from the playroom, but it sounded as though there was a mob of children in there instead of just his two grandchildren. He made his way purposefully towards the origin of the sound.

Lucius surveyed the chaotic scene with veiled abhorrence. There were three too many children in the house and they had Weasley red hair. "What is going on in here?"

All the children stopped dead in their tracks and stared at the formidable wizard in the doorway.

"Grandfather!" Angel squealed and threw herself at Lucius' legs. "We had a sleep over!"

"Did you?" Lucius drawled. "Are you aware we can hear you clearly at the lake?"

"Really?" The little strawberry blonde witch looked clearly impressed.

"Really," Lucius snarled. "Where are your parents?"

"Still in bed, Grandfather," Drake answered quietly.

"And the parents of—" Lucius waved his cane in the direction of Bill's children.

"Uncle Bill and Aunt Fleur are in bed too," Angel informed him.

"I see." Lucius turned his head to the corridor. "Millie!"

The servant appeared at Lucius' feet instantly. "Old Master did summon Millie?"

"Inform my son his presence is required in the playroom without delay."

"As you wish, Old Master." With a pop Millie was gone.

"All of you can sit yourselves on the couch... quietly," Lucius ordered sternly.

The children obeyed silently, except Angel who hovered close to her grandfather, attaching herself to his hand the moment it came into range. The three Weasley children sat close together, while Drake slumped sulkily in the corner of the couch. He wasn't pleased at having their game disturbed by his grandfather and he knew the prospect of them all getting into trouble was very likely indeed.

Time ticked by slowly and just when it seemed Draco would never appear, he wandered into the room looking very much worse for wear. He was still dressed in the clothes he had been wearing the evening before and the odor that was emanating from his body was less than desirable.

"Ah, you do decide to grace us with your presence," Lucius drawled sarcastically. His son's obvious condition didn't go unnoticed. "Was it a big night?"

"Sort of." Draco cringed as though the mere act of opening his mouth caused great pain. "What is the problem, Father?"

"Apart from the children running around like common street urchins making enough noise to raise the dead... nothing."

Draco closed his eyes and took a deep breath. This was going to be a bad day; he could feel it in his bones or was it his stomach? "I'll take care of it, Father."

"See that you do," Lucius ground out impatiently. He sneered and turned on his heel, eager to rejoin his wife.

Draco grimaced at the sound of his father's hard shoes on the marble corridor. The click-clack sound seemed to be going right through him. "Right, you lot, how about some breakfast?"

Squeals of delight filled the room and Draco's head painfully.

"Enough," Draco pleaded unintentionally. "Just keep the noise level to a dull roar if you can."

Angel looked up at her father with concern. "Aren't you feeling well, Daddy?"

"Not particularly."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not," Draco snapped. "Everyone to the dining room."

The children filed out of the room. Beau and Drake were whispering as they walked.

"I bet your dad is hung over," Beau said.

"Probably," Drake agreed. "He looks like Uncle Ron when he drinks too much."

"Yeah, all green and grumpy."

Drake sniggered into his hand.

Draco growled and immediately regretted making the effort. His head felt like it was about to roll off his shoulders and he more than half wished it would, so he wouldn't have to put up with the throbbing pain between his temples. As he meandered down the corridor behind the children Draco pondered the unfairness of being out of bed and in charge of five noisy children when he had the hang over from hell. When the children had seated themselves around the table, Draco summoned a house elf and demanded breakfast be served immediately. His theory being the sooner the children busied their mouths with food the sooner his head could find some relief.

What Draco hadn't factored in was the ear-splitting squeals of delight that sent fresh bolts of pain through his entire being as the servants placed two platters of pancakes on the table. Unable to find the strength to quiet down the children, he stepped out of the room and sagged against the corridor wall. Bile rose in his throat and he grimaced with revulsion. The last thing he needed now was to be sick.

"Millie!" The usually strong summons came out as little more than a groan.

"Master did summon Millie?"

"Watch the children."

The aged servant didn't miss the agony in her master's voice. "Millie can get something for Master?"

Draco shook his head, a move he immediately regretted and staggered down the corridor with his hand over his mouth. If he didn't do something soon he was going to be incredibly ill. When the staircase came into sight, he almost breathed a sigh of relief. A few more hours sleep should see him right and he fully intended getting what he needed.

"Draco?"

"Father," Draco grunted.

"Where are the children?"

"Breakfast."

"Are they alone?"

"Millie is with them."

"I see."

"Was there something you wanted?"

"I was merely concerned about the children. They were running wild before I intervened."

"They're fine now."

"For how long?"

Draco closed his eyes momentarily and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was accustomed to his father playing games with words to get what he wanted, but Draco wasn't in the mood for games this morning. "What are you getting at?"

"I have no doubt that once the children have finished their meal they will resume their vociferous activities if there is no supervision."

"They have supervision."

"Do you think they'll listen to a servant?"

"Yes."

"I have my doubts. If it were just Drake and Angel they'd be fine, but with the others—"

"Father, what is it you want?" Draco ground out irritably.

"I would be far more comfortable if someone was with them."

"You're quite welcome to supervise their play if you feel that way."

"Ah, but they're not my children."

Draco expelled a large breath. His patience was teetering on the very edge of extinction. "That may be so, but you are the only one concerned about them, so supervise them yourself or leave them with Millie. Either way I'm going back to bed."

Lucius watched his son mount the staircase a little unsteadily. He seemed to be almost dragging himself up step by step. With Draco not complying with his wishes, Lucius was left with a decision to make: to supervise the children himself or simply leave them to the servant. It didn't bode well with him to know there were Weasleys running around his home unsupervised by someone with authority. He grunted irritably and made his way to the dining room where the children were talking and laughing loudly as they ate.

"Settle down," Lucius growled in a low tone. "Eat your breakfast in silence."

The room fell silent except for the sound of cutlery against china. The three Weasley children didn't look up from their plates. Drake glowered at his grandfather, again annoyed with the old wizard spoiling his fun. Only Angel seemed entirely unaffected by Lucius' presence, she smiled amiably at everyone as she ate her pancakes.

"Millie, what time does my daughter-in-law usually rise in the morning?"

"Mistress should be awake now, Old Master. Millie can fetch Mistress—"

"No," Lucius snapped. He didn't want to be seen to be sending for Ginevra, but with the knowledge that she should have risen by now he was heartened to assume she would be downstairs to check on the children soon.

While Lucius' attention was fixed on the servant, Courtney left her seat and ran towards the door.

"Where are you going, young lady?"

The little witch stopped with a pained expression on her face and looked at the older wizard. To just about anyone else her plight would have been obvious, but Lucius was oblivious.

"I asked you where you were going," Lucius reiterated gruffly.

"I need—" Courtney stopped with a whimper and crossed her legs.

"Well?" Lucius sneered.

"Darling, I thought you were coming back?" Narcissa said as she glided into the room.

"I was, but our son has returned to his bedchamber and left the children unsupervised."

Narcissa glanced at the small witch standing before her husband. "Oh dear, if you need to use the facilities, dear, do hurry."

Courtney looked at the blonde witch with wide eyes. She had no idea what the woman had just said, but she did hear the word 'hurry'. Undecided as to whether she should move or not Courtney's pained expression doubled.

"Do you need to use the lavatory?" Narcissa asked slowly.

Courtney nodded.

"Do you know where it is?"

Again Courtney nodded.

"You may leave to use the lavatory and return as soon as you're finished."

The little girl didn't bother to respond as she ran through the door.

"Now the rest of you eat up." Narcissa pulled a chair out beside her grandson and sat down. She summoned a servant and ordered a pot of tea for two. "Lucius, come and sit with us."

The wizard growled under his breath and took a seat at the table as requested. This was not what he'd had planned for today.

Narcissa fussed over each of the children, making certain they kept eating and used their best table manners. Drake and Angel knew exactly what was expected of them and fell easily into the routine their grandmother insisted upon. The two Weasley children ate up obediently, but from time to time glanced at the formidable witch giving out light toned orders.

When Courtney returned to the dining room she clambered up into her chair and began to eat again with her hands.

"Oh, darling, you must use your cutlery," Narcissa stressed. "It's most unbecoming a lady to eat like a commoner."

Courtney blinked at the blonde witch and slowly picked up her implements.

"Drake, sweetheart why don't you do the introductions? I have no idea who you have invited to breakfast," Narcissa crooned. She knew they were related in some way to her daughter-in-law, but couldn't quite remember how.

The little boy swallowed his mouthful, wiped his face with his napkin and smiled at his grandmother. "This is Beau, Courtney and Eloise."

"And they belong to?"

"Uncle Bill and Aunt Fleur," Drake answered politely.

"Yes of course. Your uncle works for Gringotts, doesn't he?"

"Yep."

Narcissa looked at her small grandson with wide expectant eyes.

"I mean... Yes, Grandmother, Uncle Bill works for Gringotts. He's a curse-breaker."

Beau immediately began sniggering at his cousin. He'd never before heard Drake use such formal tones and it sounded hilarious to his ears.

"Is there something amusing, young man?" Lucius snarled.

The little boy snorted in an effort to quell his open humor and shook his head profusely.

"Might I suggest you finish your meal then?" Lucius narrowed his eyes at the amused little boy. There was something he didn't like about the child. It wasn't obvious, but it was most definitely there.

Beau settled himself down as quickly as he could. He didn't like his cousins' grandfather. The man frightened him a little.

"When you've all finished your breakfast we might take a walk by the lake," Narcissa suggested lightly.

Lucius masked his shock before it even appeared on his face. "Dearest, do you think it's wise to remove the children from the house? Ginevra is apparently awake before now usually."

"She will be tired from entertaining last night, let her sleep. It's the least we can do."

"I was merely suggesting she may be worried if she discovers the children missing," Lucius persisted.

"Nonsense! I'm sure she'll appreciate the time to rest properly."

Lucius fumed inwardly. He knew Narcissa's expression and tone well enough to know that arguing the point would not see victory go his way. At times she was more stubborn than he and that was saying something. Of course, he could refuse to go along, but to leave his wife with three children she didn't know, and with their background, could be potentially disastrous. If anything happened he'd never forgive himself.

When the children finished eating, Narcissa sent them upstairs with instructions to dress quickly and quietly. She added that if they were to disturb their parents then their planned trip to the lake wouldn't be possible. Millie went with the children to assist where needed, most particularly with Eloise.

As soon as the children were out of earshot, Lucius couldn't help but voice his concerns. "Narcissa, do you truly think this is wise? The other children are hardly civilized."

"Darling, if I thought they were quite that bad I wouldn't have suggested it. All they need is some refined guidance. Perhaps while they're here we can impress just a little upon them?"

"I doubt we have enough time to imprint anything upon them," Lucius muttered.

"You never know what impressions children will keep with them. It's worth the effort if only to know we've made a small difference."

"If you say so, dear."

"They do have contact with our grandchildren, dear. You wouldn't want them to inflict their poor manners upon Drake or Angel."

"Of course not."

"We have to do our best then to impress the correct standards upon them for the short time they are here."

Lucius muttered to himself as his wife ordered a servant to fetch their cloaks. It didn't really matter to him if the next generation of Weasleys were completely without social skills or not. If any of his grandchildren were to pick up on their behavior they were easily corrected. Which, of course, made this exercise of Narcissa's totally unnecessary.

Before long Millie escorted the children back to the dining room. They were quietly excited, only because the aging house elf constantly reminded them to keep their volume down lest their walk to the lake was cancelled. With firm instructions to notify the parents of the children where they were once they emerged from their chambers, Millie returned upstairs to wait until it was appropriate to deliver the message.

Once outside, the children gave into their delight and their volume rose instantly. No amount of subtle frowning on Lucius' part could quell the din. He could only be thankful that as the children ran ahead their dreadful noise invaded his head less and less.

"Isn't this lovely?" Narcissa chimed as she threaded her hand through the crook of Lucius' elbow.

The blond wizard merely grunted. An honest response to his wife's query would have been offensive to her delicate ears.

"It's wonderful to see the children so full of life — running around enjoying themselves," Narcissa continued, ignoring her husband's demeanor.

"Grandfather, Grandfather, can we show Courtney my horse?" Angel bellowed from a distance.

"It is most unladylike to shout, Angelique," Lucius responded firmly, without raising his voice.

"Can we, Grandfather?" Angel asked when Lucius drew closer, ignoring his attempted reprimand.

"We shall see," Lucius replied absently. His attention was on the boys, who had run ahead to the lake and were now very close to the waters edge. "Drake, be careful."

"Yes, Grandfather."

Lucius' lip curled at the tone of his grandson's voice. He could hear the boy rolling his eyes to the heavens. Later in the day, he'd have a word to his grandson regarding paying the appropriate respect even when his back is turned. He watched the small boys run to a near by tree and pick up some long sticks. When they returned to the lake's edge they began slapping harmlessly at the water as they ambled towards the pier. About to tell Drake to remain on the shore, Lucius caught himself firmly. Drake was well aware of what was expected of him near the lake, so there was no legitimate reason why he should deny them access to the structure.

"Do you go swimming here?" Beau asked as he peered over the edge of the small jetty into the water.

"Haven't yet, but Daddy says he's going to take us swimming," Drake answered nonchalantly.

"Wonder how deep the water is," Beau mused aloud.

"Don't know," Drake muttered.

"Do you think it's deeper than my stick?"

Drake shrugged. He hadn't given the lake a whole lot of thought.

Beau hung his stick over the edge and plunged it into the water. The little red headed wizard leaned over precariously holding onto the stick and pushing it further into the water. "I still haven't reached the bottom!"

Drake leaned over to see how far his cousin had the stick in the water. As he placed a hand on the small of Beau's back to balance himself, the other little boy pitched forward, pin wheeling his arms in a futile effort to save himself or grab onto his blond cousin. Not moments after Beau hit the water, Drake followed. His attempts to grab a hold of Beau, before he hit the water, had thrown Drake so far off balance it was really only a matter of time before he too plunged into the lake.

Lucius watched the entire scene unfold before him. He was too far away to save either boy from falling in, but he was moving towards them instantly with a speed that his body hadn't felt in years. As he moved, his cloak was unceremoniously dropped to the ground along with his cane. There was no time to consider removing his shoes or any other item of clothing before he dove into the dark waters of the lake.

Somewhere in the distance, Lucius could hear Narcissa shrieking orders to save the boys. He ignored her for the time being. She was hysterical and would need to be calmed down, but for now he had to find his grandson and the boy's cousin. A splashing behind him alerted Lucius to the position of one of the boys. He spun around quickly and was rewarded with two small hands pummeling his face. The little redheaded boy the hands were attached to was grasping desperately at anything to remain on the surface of the water. Lucius gathered him in quickly.

"I have you now. Let go of my hair," Lucius growled sternly. "Boy, stop fighting me."

Beau went limp in the older wizard's arms. His hand releasing its death grip on Lucius' long hair, but remaining tangled in the platinum blond locks.

Lucius scanned the surface of the water for any sign of his grandson. With a sudden rush, Drake broke the surface to Lucius' right side. Without hesitation Lucius' arm shot out and grabbed Drake by the forearm. The little boy's gray eyes were wide with panic and his face paler than snow.

"It's all right, Drake," Lucius said gently. The relief he felt was all consuming.

With the two little wizards clinging to him, Lucius began to make his way to the shore. The journey was slow and arduous. When he was only feet from safety, Draco Apparated nearby and ran to meet his father. The two men worked in silence as Lucius handed over the boys to his son, then accepted assistance to clamber ashore himself.

Millie had already wrapped the little boys in large towels and was attempting to dry her old Master off where he stood. Narcissa was fussing over the Drake and Beau, ensuring both were not harmed and hugging both of them to her tightly, despite the fact they were dripping wet.

The three little witches stood back staring in awe at the scene unfolding before them. Angel dare not move after her grandmother had growled at them to stay put in a voice she'd never used before, at least not around Angel.

"How did you know?" Lucius asked Draco quietly.

"Millie... apparently Mother sent for her."

Lucius nodded his acknowledgement gently.

"What happened?" Draco enquired, concern lacing his tone thickly. Adrenalin had all but banished any signs of his hang over for the time being, something he was eternally grateful for.

Lucius glanced past his son to the three adults coming across the lawn swiftly. "They fell in."

Draco's brow furrowed. "How?"

"Beau was leaning over and Drake placed a hand on his back... the next thing I knew they were both in the water."

"Drake pushed Beau?"

"No, I don't think so. It was more a case of overbalancing from my view."

"All right." Draco sighed heavily. Even though he was thinking a lot clearer than he had been an hour or so ago, this was not something he wanted to deal with this morning. Bill's reaction worried him greatly. If it was unfavorable it could place unnecessary pressure on his relationship with Ginny.

Draco turned to watch his wife gather their son in her arms. Fleur had done much the same with Beau, while Bill made a beeline for Lucius.

The redheaded wizard extended his hand in a show of gratitude. "Thank you, Mr. Malfoy."

"I could hardly stand by idly and watch the boys drown."

"Your efforts are certainly appreciated," Bill reiterated.

"May I suggest swimming instruction for all the children?" Lucius proposed impersonally.

"I think we'll be starting that straight away," Bill admitted.

"Us too. This lake has given me too many scares," Draco voiced gravely.

Bill looked at his brother-in-law quizzically. "You've had more than one incident?"

"Ginny fell in the first weekend she stayed here and now this. The twins will be starting swimming lessons this week, even if I have to teach them myself."

"But Ginny can swim," Bill muttered in confusion.

"The water was still freezing," Draco disclosed. "I think she panicked when the cold hit her."

"Lucius," Narcissa interrupted. "I'm taking the girls back to the house. You need to get yourself dry before you catch your death."

"Yes, of course, dearest." Lucius inclined his head to the men. "I will see you back at the house."

Bill and Draco made their way over to their sons. Their respective mothers were just about smothering both little boys. The women made utterances of warm baths and dry clothes as they rubbed their boys dry.

"Ginny, why don't we head back and get the boys into that warm bath you keep promising them." Draco smiled at his wife. He wanted to point out that the day was warm enough for swimming, so a warm bath was unnecessary, but he'd learned to keep his mouth shut when Ginny was fussing over one of the children like that.

Draco, following Bill's lead, gathered his towel-swaddled son in his arms and walked in the direction of the house. As the group entered the building, Ginny summoned Millie and instructed the anxious servant to draw a warm bath for the boys in Drake's bathroom.

By the time they reached Drake's suite, the bathtub was full and waiting for the two little boys. Narcissa flitted into the room just as the Ginny and Fleur began stripping their respective sons of their wet clothing.

"Is there anything I can do, Ginevra?"

"No thank you, Narcissa. I think we're right here. Where are the girls?"

"They're being supervised in the playroom. I was about to send Millie down to them if you're finished with her here."

"Yes, that's fine. Fleur and I will take care of the boys."

The house elf didn't wait for the order to be given. After giving her old Mistress a knowing nod, she Disapparated with a low pop, leaving the women to their work.

"I'm so sorry," Narcissa said stiffly. She felt guilty about the incident, but apologizing was not a virtue she had perfected. "I thought a walk by the lake would be fun for the children and you would be able to sleep in a little,"

"It's fine, Mrs. Malfoy," Fleur said with a smile. "The boys are safe and there's no harm done."

"Don't worry yourself, Mother," Draco intoned gently. "Accidents happen and Father was on hand to rescue them."

"But if one of them—"

Draco's arms slipped around his distressed mother and he whispered, "Don't think about it."

"Draco's right, Narcissa. It doesn't bear thinking about," Ginny said firmly as she ushered her naked son into the bathroom.

"If you're sure there's nothing I can do, darling, I'll go and check on your father," Narcissa expressed quietly.

"I'm positive Ginny and Fleur have everything under control, Mother, and we know where you are if we need you," Draco assured her, placing a kiss on her forehead before she left.

Ginny's head poked out of the bathroom. "Narcissa, I wonder if you could arrange for some hot chocolate for the boys, after you've checked on Lucius."

Narcissa smiled fondly at the younger witch. "Of course, where would you like it served?"

"The family parlor would be fine."

"It'll be there for when the boys come downstairs."

"Thank you." Ginny grinned to herself as Narcissa left the room and she returned to the bathroom. She'd taken a punt on how Narcissa was feeling and it seems she was right. Narcissa simply needed to feel like she was doing something to help.

Draco stood in the doorway of the bathroom looking curiously at his wife. "What was that about?"

"Just giving your mother something to do so she feels like she's helping." Ginny beamed at him from the edge of the tub. "My mum is the same. They need to feel wanted. Now you can watch your son while I get some clothes for these two drowned rats, or you can check on Henri while Fleur watches the boys."

Draco looked at her incredulously. "What about Bill? What's he going to do?"

"Bill is going to go downstairs and check on the girls," Ginny said sending her brother a meaningful look. "You do remember the way, don't you?"

"Yeah I think I can find the playroom," Bill murmured. After the comment he made last night at dinner about Ginny turning into Molly he'd come to the conclusion that he wasn't really all that far off the mark. The witch just couldn't help but issue orders and organize everyone in sight.

"Good. So, Draco, what's it going to be? Two splashy boys or one sleepy boy?"

"What's Henri doing?" Draco asked cautiously.

"He was asleep and a house elf was watching him in case he woke up while we were outside," Fleur offered.

"So he's asleep?"

"Possibly." Ginny smirked. She could see the indecision in her husband's eyes. "The servant was told not to interrupt us unless Henri was distressed. If he's awake, you'll have to change his bottom and bring him in here to Fleur."

"I'll take the splashy boys," Draco stated strongly. There was no way he was getting near that child without his nappy on again, at least not by choice.

"Fine, we'll be back soon." Ginny left the bathroom ahead of her brother and his wife. As she crossed to Drake's dressing room she was already mentally going through his wardrobe deciding what she'd get out for the boys.

Draco waited until Bill and Fleur left before moving closer to the tub. He could only see the heads of his son and nephew above the bubbles. "How are you two feeling now?"

"Okay," Drake admitted.

"Yep, okay," Beau concurred.

"Good, so what happened out there?"

Drake shrugged. "We fell in."

"Yeah, that bit I sort of guessed for myself," Draco said.

"Uncle Draco, how deep is your lake?" Beau asked.

"Pretty deep," Draco responded.

"Oh."

"Why?"

"'Cause we were trying to see how deep the lake was," Beau admitted faintly.

"I see." Draco rubbed the back of his neck to relieve some of the tension. Now that the adrenalin rush had worn off his hangover was coming back to haunt him. "You know you could have just asked, instead of falling in to check it."

"Didn't mean to fall in, it just happened," Drake said innocently.

Draco regarded his son and nephew for a moment. Both were trying to look as regretful as they could, but were failing somewhat miserably. He remembered thinking it was a great fun falling in the lake when he was child. Still the adult in him reared up and he felt it poignant to warn them one final time. "You two were really lucky today. One of you could have drowned."

"Yes, Daddy." Drake had the good sense to hold his sheepish expression for a second or two longer before allowing a cheeky grin to light up his face.

A fraction of a second before it happened, Draco realized what his son's grin meant. Although he tried to move, his still Firewhisky affected brain was unable to issued the instruction in time and the two little wizards made short work of saturating him to the bone. They splashed him mercilessly until the entire bathroom was flooded with water and bubbles. Draco was left with no choice but to defend himself, so he leaned over the tub and started sending water in the direction of the boys, much to their delight.

"_WHAT_ IS GOING ON IN HERE?"

All three wizards froze in position. Drake's arms were poised to dump a large quantity of water on his father, and Beau was protecting himself from the onslaught on bubbles Draco was pushing over him.

"I don't believe this," Ginny muttered half to herself as she glanced around the bathroom. Puddles were forming all over the tiles and the floor looked precarious at best. While she itched to wrap her wand around the three naughty backsides, Ginny didn't dare step into the room for fear of slipping. "How hard is it to watch the boys while they're in the bath, Draco?"

"It wasn't—"

"I don't want to hear it. You were in charge!" Ginny's eyes narrowed on their target. "You _are_ the adult."

"But they—"

Beau leaned over and whispered in Drake's ear, "My dad's right, your mum is starting to sound like Grandma."

The notion was too much for Drake and he immediately burst into a fit of giggles. Beau couldn't contain himself then and joined his cousin a moment later. Draco glared at both boys; they were going to get him into even more trouble if they didn't shut up.

"I wouldn't laugh if I were you two." Ginny sent a stern look at both little boys. "You're both in trouble too."

Within seconds the boys sobered themselves. Neither needed to be reminded how volatile the Weasley temper was.

"Draco, get the boys out of the bath and clean the bathroom. I can't risk walking in there, so it'd had better be completely dry by the time I need to," Ginny instructed firmly. "And don't even think about calling a servant to do it for you."

"But, love, I'm not good at those cleaning charms."

"Then I suggest you get the boys out of the bathroom first, just in case something goes wrong," Ginny responded sweetly as she vanished from the doorway.

Drake and Beau looked at Draco with wide eyes. Their contrite expressions were tainted with amusement.

"See what you've done now? I'm in trouble again," Draco seethed.

"But it was fun," Drake ventured, trying mightily not to giggle again.

A wicked smirk crept across Draco's features. "Yeah it was fun, but now I have to get you two out and try to remember the difference between drying charms and flooding charms."

The two little boys looked blankly at one another. They didn't have the foggiest idea what the difference between the two charms was and probably wouldn't ever show an interest is such domestic magic.

"Ginny, where can I find dry towels?" Draco called. The towels on the rack were sodden.

"In the cupboard under the sink."

"Right," Draco muttered to himself. He cautiously made his way across the slippery tiles to the sink and found the towels. Fear of landing on his backside kept Draco ever alert to where he was stepping. A few near misses later he finally made it back to the side of the tub. "Now carefully step out. Make sure you don't slip."

"Draco, spread a towel on the floor, so they won't slip over," Ginny called from the bedchamber.

Draco scowled at the empty doorway. With only two towels over his shoulder, he was going to have to make a trip to the cupboard again. She really could have mentioned this beforehand. Half way across the bathroom, Draco felt his foot slip from underneath him. Try as he might he was unable to regain his balance and with an unmanly yelp he landed hard on the floor.

"Draco! Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Draco grunted. Despite hearing the concern in his wife's voice he refused to look to the doorway where she was now standing. "Just fine."

Ginny flicked her wand around the room, drying the floor instantly, and rushed to his side. "Are you sure?"

"Positive," Draco ground out. At this point in time he wished the ground would open up and swallow him, at least that way he could be alone with his humiliation and bruised arse.

"Can you get up?"

With great effort, Draco began to get to his feet. His backside was screaming in pain, but he grit his teeth and tried to smile. "See, I'm fine."

"Why don't you get changed? I'll get the boys out and we'll meet you downstairs," Ginny offered sweetly.

"Yeah, I suppose I should," Draco muttered as he tried to exit the bathroom without limping. As soon as he got out of Ginny's sight he was going to Apparate to his chambers and then downstairs to his favorite chair, this walking caper was just about killing him.

Ginny waited until Draco had left the bathroom before turning to the two amused little boys in the bath. "Don't even think about laughing," she warned seriously.

Beau and Drake held their amusement until they looked at each other, and then burst into loud giggles.

"Come on, out of the bath quickly," Ginny said as she spread a towel on the floor. It was pointless to tell them to settle down now that they'd started. She passed both the boys fresh towels as they exited the bath and sent them into the bedchamber to dress in the clothes she'd left on the bed.

Before leaving the bathroom, Ginny sent several more cleaning charms around the room, just to ensure she'd not missed any puddles. The boys were getting dressed, as little boys did, with lots of giggles and messing around. Rather than hurry them along, Ginny instructed them to come down to the family parlor when they were dressed and they could have some hot chocolate.

Confident the boys wouldn't be far behind her, Ginny left them to dress and wandered downstairs. On her way she stopped by her own chambers to see if Draco was okay, but he wasn't in there. Not overly concerned with his absence Ginny continued on her way.

Everyone but the Drake and Beau was gathered on the patio outside the family parlor. The girls were hovering close by eyeing the selection of pastries Narcissa had ordered to be served.

"Where are the boys?" Bill asked looking behind his sister for any sign of the two troublemakers.

"They're coming. They were just getting dressed when I left them," Ginny responded as she reached for the pot of tea. She hadn't realized until she saw the pot that she was in desperate need of a cup of tea, having not had one this morning.

"Maybe we should send Millie up to check on them," Draco suggested quietly.

"They'll be here soon." Ginny suppressed a smile as she noted a plush cushion under her husband's derriere. "I told them there was hot chocolate waiting for them."

"I'm surprised Beau's taking the time to get dressed," Fleur commented lightly. Her son loved hot chocolate and would do just about anything for a taste of the sweet beverage.

"Are they all right?" Lucius asked tightly.

"Yes, they're both fine. None the worse for the drama they put us through," Ginny responded.

"That is a relief." Narcissa reached across the table and placed her hand on her daughter-in-law's. "I'm so terribly sorry they fell in. It just happened so quickly."

"Narcissa, don't let it worry you. I'm sure both of them think it was a wonderful adventure." Ginny smiled gently at the older witch. She'd never seen Narcissa quite like this before and it surprised her that the woman would show this amount of emotion in front of guests. "They'll be telling everyone about it for the next month."

"Who would they tell?" The alarm in the blonde witch's voice was unmistakable.

Bill chuckled heartily. "Everyone they see. Believe me the entire family will hear the story a hundred times over and it'll grow into the biggest tale ever told with little encouragement."

"Oh dear." Narcissa's hand flew to her chest. "What will people think?"

"They'll think you were magnificent for keeping them out of the water for as long as you did," Ginny said firmly. "Narcissa, it doesn't matter how vigilantly they're watched; they always find their way into mischief. Now please stop blaming yourself."

"I second that motion," Lucius drawled. He knew if his wife were allowed to continue to blame herself she would be a mess before midday and he would have to pick up the pieces of her fragile emotions.

Further discussion of Narcissa's misplaced guilt was impeded by the arrival of Drake and Beau.

"Drake, darling." Narcissa flew from her chair and gathered her grandson in her arms. "Do tell me you're all right now."

"Fine, Grandmother," Drake muttered, trying to free himself from her hold.

"You gave me such a fright— I thought we'd lost you." Narcissa's voice cracked as she uttered the last words.

Quick to read his wife's demeanor, Lucius was on his feet and beside Narcissa within seconds. It seemed he was going to have to deal with her tears after all. "Come along, Cissa, it's time we sought some privacy."

With tears already making her blue eyes shimmer Narcissa allowed Lucius to gently lift her to her feet and guide her inside.

Drake, grateful for the reprieve, headed straight for the table and the pastries. He was starving after his impromptu swim. "Mummy, may we have one?"

"Yes, sweetheart."

The words had hardly left Ginny's mouth when five little hands converged on the platter of sweet treats.

"Take it easy, kids," Bill warned sternly.

"Just one each," Fleur added.

After Ginny had placed a warm mug of hot chocolate in front of each of the children she noticed that both Bill and Fleur were fussing over Henri. It allowed her the perfect opportunity to have a quiet word with Draco.

She leaned over and whispered, "Are you all right?"

"Yes."

Ginny tugged a little on the cushion Draco was sitting on. "Really?"

Draco forced himself to hold his stoical expression, even though the slightest movement was pure torture. What he wanted was for everyone to leave, so he could crawl back into bed and convince himself the entire morning was a nightmare. "Really," he grunted. "Just leave it alone."

"Fine," Ginny responded flippantly. "I was just concerned about you."

"There's no need." Draco forced a smile in her direction, but to Ginny's trained eye it looked more than a little sickly.

With Draco being stubborn about admitting his obvious injury, Ginny turned her attention to her baby nephew, extracting the infant from his father's arms with ease. If he didn't want to talk about it then that was fine, she'd play with Henri.

Fleur leaned in close to her sister-in-law. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes, everything is fine." Ginny smiled pleasantly and turned attention to her squirmy nephew.

Bill and Draco began discussing the match they'd listened to the night before and how it would affect the teams' standing on the ladder. While Quidditch was an almost safe subject for Draco to discuss with her brothers, Ginny did wish they'd change the topic once in a while. She loved the sport, but certainly didn't see the need to sleep, eat and breathe Quidditch.

When the children had finished their morning tea, Fleur announced it was time for the family to be getting home. Ginny attempted to convince her to stay for lunch, but the French witch was firm in her decision. Once their few belongings had been gathered the two families strolled to the front lawn of the grand manor.

"Thank you so much for everything," Fleur gushed as she kissed both of Ginny's cheeks.

"You're more than welcome. Next time we'll make a weekend of it," Ginny replied sincerely. She cuddled her young nephew one more time before handing the infant to his mother.

"Ginny, it's been great," Bill said, hugging his sister tightly, before turning to his brother-in-law. "Draco, we'll have to do it again."

"Absolutely," Draco responded without exuberance. His head was killing him slowly, his backside was torturing him to death and he just wanted these people to leave, so he could crawl into a dark corner and die peacefully.

Bill looked around for his other three children. "Come on, kids, say goodbye quickly."

With five children running around bidding everyone goodbye the noise level rose to past painful for Draco. By the time the Weasley family was standing with their fingers poised on the Portkey, he'd been pulled down and slobbered on more times than was necessary.

"Safe trip," Ginny wished them as the Portkey activated.

As soon as the family disappeared from the front lawn of the manor, Draco turned back to the house. He knew his family was following him at close quarters and he would likely get questioned over the direction he was going to take once inside, but he didn't care. The need to get some more sleep and rest his injured body overrode any fear of upsetting his wife.

Ginny paused in the foyer to watch her husband climbing the staircase. She knew he wasn't well, but it was self-inflicted and therefore not worthy of her sympathy. There was that fall in the bathroom as well, though he claimed to be fine from that incident, she didn't believe him. Still if he was unwilling to admit he was hurt then he didn't want or need her compassion. "Just where do you think you're going?"

"Bed," Draco muttered.

"Draco, it's almost lunchtime!"

"And I'm hung over! I'm going back to bed before I die."

"I doubt you'd die if you stayed up."

"I might. It's not worth taking the chance."

Ginny shook her head at her husband as he continued up the staircase. He looked to be really struggling to pull himself up each step. There was no point in forcing the issue, because he'd just be a miserable prat if he didn't get some more sleep. She'd allow him a few more hours and then wake him. Perhaps in a most pleasant way, if the twins were sufficiently occupied.

* * *

_**AUTHORS NOTES**_

_Huge thanks to Rainpuddle13 for her sensational beta skills and plot discussions._

_There is a missing scene in this chapter. It belongs right at the end and can be found at http / dragonsangel68 .livejournal .com /184041 .html #cutid1 (remove the spaces), or the chapter in full can be found at http / groups. yahoo. com /group /littleyellowduck/ (remove the spaces). _


	5. Work Before Play

**_Disclaimer_**_: I don't own any of the characters you may recognize from the wonderful world of Harry Potter, they all belong to the revered JK Rowling; I just like to play with them a little._

**CHAPTER FIVE**

**WORK BEFORE PLAY**

Ginny irritably tapped her quill against the thick sheaf of parchments sitting in front of her. They'd been interviewing potential tutors the entire morning, and she was growing weary of the process. In fact, she was beginning to wonder if asking Professor Snape for his suggestions was a wise choice. None of the applicants so far would be getting within a mile of her children while she had any say in the matter.

She glanced over at Draco. He was absorbed in the next candidate's resume. In the time between each interview, he made a point of reviewing the upcoming applicant's resume before they entered the room. It was like a ritual for him by this point.

More than once, between interviews, Ginny had declared she would home-school the twins herself, and save the pain of seeing yet another creepy old wizard. It was something that would please her mother at least; and perhaps save her a lot of grief over the coming years, given Molly's reaction to the idea of hiring a tutor. The day before they'd gone to the Burrow for lunch, as they did every month, and sometime during the day Molly had overheard Draco telling Charlie that they were interviewing prospective tutors. The Weasley matriarch had voiced her disapproval, without hesitation, to a very shocked Draco, and then she cornered Ginny in the kitchen, to tell her exactly what she thought of hiring someone to teach the children instead of schooling them herself. No amount of reasoning with the older witch could change her mind, and in the end, Ginny gave up trying to for the sake of her own sanity.

Just to make matters worse it was extremely hot, and although extra cooling charms had been cast in the boardroom of Malfoy Holdings, Ginny was still feeling somewhat uncomfortable. She sighed heavily as she looked over the appointment list. There were another three applicants to see before lunch.

"Smile, love, it's nearly over, and then I'll take you for a nice lunch before we head home," Draco said encouragingly.

"It wouldn't be so bad if we could come up with at least one person we were both comfortable with."

"I know, but it's still early. We'll find someone, I promise."

Ginny's eyes flicked up to the door as it opened to admit yet another hopeful. The pleasant smile on her face belied her first impressions of the wizard standing at the head of the table. _Why don't you just sod off now, and save us the torture,_ she thought. _You haven't got a hope in hell of getting the job._ "Please take a seat."

"Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy." The old gray wizard inclined his head fractionally, and took a seat opposite the Malfoys.

"Your application was quite impressive, Mr. Aldjoy," Draco started.

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. I have been fortunate to have had many long tenures with respected families throughout my career."

"Yes I noticed—" Draco proceeded to ask the man a series of standard questions they'd worked out beforehand.

Even though a Quick-Quotes Quill was furiously scribbling his every word, Ginny made her own notes, and observations of the wizard. He was around sixty years of age, and had very definite views about how children should behave. She carefully wrote 'no' on the side of the parchment, so Draco could see it, in the hope the meeting could be shortened considerably.

Much to Ginny's disappointment, Draco continued to plow through the questions. The answers the wizard was giving were less than satisfactory, in Ginny's opinion, and as such, he wouldn't even be considered. All the qualifications in the world didn't make a person good with children, and that was more important to her than anything else.

"Thank you for attending the interview." Draco stood, and offered his hand to the wizard. "We'll be compiling a short list of potentials this week, and we'll advise you of your success in due course."

"Thank you for seeing me, Mr. Malfoy." The wizard shook Draco's offered hand, and then turned to Ginny, inclining his head politely. "Mrs. Malfoy."

Ginny forced a half smile onto her face and nodded curtly. She waited until the door had closed behind the man before venting. "What a git!"

"He wasn't that bad. He just had very definite views about behavior," Draco responded with an amused smirk.

"Could you imagine him with Drake? It would be a constant battle of wills."

"All right." Draco held his hands up in surrender. "All right we won't even consider him. Happy?"

"Yes."

"Let's move on then," Draco suggested, happy he placated his wife for the time being. "This next one is the young witch you wanted to meet."

"Just because she's young doesn't mean she won't be capable, and she's more likely to be good with the kids. Those stuffy old men you insisted on interviewing are hopeless with children."

"We're hiring someone to educate them, not be their friend," Draco reminded her.

"I know, but employing someone who's going to scare them witless isn't going to help them learn."

"Let's just get through the rest of the interviews, and then we'll discuss our thoughts." They'd been through this many times over the last week, and it didn't appear as though they'd ever agree on what personal credentials a tutor should have.

"Fine," Ginny uttered, as a knock on the door reverberated around the room.

"Ready?"

Ginny nodded and smiled.

Draco shuffled a few papers, and set the Quick Quotes Quill on a clean sheet of parchment. "Enter."

A witch in her late twenties slipped into the boardroom. She was a homely looking woman, with horn-rimmed spectacles and dull brown hair. Her smile was hesitant and obviously nervous.

"Come in, Miss Sheehan," Draco intoned deeply. "Take a seat."

"Thank you so much for seeing me, Mr. Malfoy," the woman gushed.

"This is my wife, Mrs. Malfoy." Draco gestured patiently in Ginny's direction.

"Mrs. Malfoy, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Ginny smiled at the woman, who was only just containing her nervous excitement. "Likewise."

"I noticed you weren't educated at Hogwarts," Draco began immediately.

"No. My father didn't like the idea of me attending school with wizards, so he sent me to Beauxbatons."

Draco chuckled dryly. "I can understand his concerns," he muttered half to himself.

"Yes, yes you have a daughter, and of course, a son as well."

"They're twins," Ginny clarified.

Miss Sheehan opened her mouth to respond, but snapped it closed when Draco cleared his throat pointedly.

"Your qualifications seem to be in order, however, you are lacking in practical experience," Draco continued in a businesslike manner.

"I'm currently working for the Maddock family, but my student will begin his formal education at Hogwarts this September, so I'm obviously looking for another position."

"And the Maddocks support your absence from duties to do so?"

"Yes, of course they do. They'd like me to find a position before I leave their employ."

Draco nodded thoughtfully and made a mental note to contact Mr. Maddock sometime this week. "We have some standard questions we'd like to ask, so if you don't mind we'll get on with it."

"Of course."

Ginny listened carefully to the witch's responses. Although she seemed to be a little hesitant in her answers at times, Ginny liked her. Before Draco had interrupted them she got the impression that Miss Sheehan was not only genuinely interested in the twins, but that she actually liked children. It was a far cry from the cold professional impression she got from the other applicants.

"Thank you for coming," Draco said, as the answer to his final question rolled off her tongue. "We'll advise you in due course of your success."

Miss Sheehan looked at the blond wizard across the table nervously. "If you don't mind, Mr. Malfoy, I have some questions I'd like to ask."

Draco's expression flickered momentarily, before settling back into his usual business manner. "Go ahead."

"How old are your children?"

"They're five-years-old," Ginny answered. "Their birthday was in March."

"Five is such a wonderful age. They're always so eager to learn at that age."

"They are keen," Ginny agreed.

"Have they had any education yet?"

"They can both write their own names, read some basic words, and recite the alphabet."

"Wonderful! It's so lovely to come across children who are able to accomplish such tasks at an early age."

"They're both very bright."

Draco cleared his throat meaningfully. This was deteriorating into a women's nattering session, and he wasn't about to sit through such nonsense. "Well, if that was all, Miss Sheehan, we do have other applicants to see."

"Of course, thank you for seeing me. I look forward to hearing from you."

"In due course," Draco muttered to the stack of parchments in front of him.

Ginny smiled warmly. "It was lovely to meet you."

"And you, Mrs. Malfoy." Miss Sheehan left the boardroom, quietly closing the door behind her.

"I liked her," Ginny said quietly.

"I could tell," Draco muttered absently.

"What's wrong?"

"There's no name on this next application."

"How odd."

Draco frowned and shook his head. "Let's just hope whoever it is has enough sense to introduce themselves professionally."

"What about the appointment sheet?"

"It just says 'Professor'."

"Aren't there any clues in the application? Maybe a letter of reference or something?"

"Maybe, but there's quite a few of them." Draco rifled through the sheets of parchment half-heartedly. "I'll just wait. There are ways to discover someone's name."

"Is this the last one?"

"Yes, love. I know you're hot and tired, but we have to get through this, or we'll never get someone acceptable for the start of semester."

"I know." Ginny sighed heavily. She wanted to go home more than anything now. As far as she was concerned their search was over, but she knew it would take some time to convince Draco. He had a foolish preconceived notion that a tutor could only be an old wizard with no interpersonal skills.

A firm knock at the door startled Ginny from her musings. She looked expectantly at Draco while he straightened the papers in front of him. It was something he'd done before granting entry to each interviewee, a bit like a ritual.

"Enter."

The door opened slowly, and an elderly wizard stepped into the boardroom. Ginny had just started grumbling to herself when she noticed Draco stiffen. Whoever this man was, her husband was not happy to see him.

"Draco, it's a pleasure to see you again."

"Professor Sutherland," Draco responded tightly. "What are you doing here?"

Ginny searched her memory. The Sutherland name was familiar, but she couldn't place where she'd heard it before.

"I was under the impression you were looking for a competent tutor."

"Who gave you that impression?"

"I received an owl from your father."

"Is that so?" Draco had regained his cold businesslike manner instantly upon hearing that his father was behind this wizard's appearance. "Did it not occur to you that if I had wanted to meet with you _I_ would have requested your presence?"

Professor Sutherland sat opposite Draco without being invited. "Your father mentioned you might not be overly pleased to see me."

"Yet you came anyway?"

"Lucius believes I would be the best choice to educate his grandchildren."

Draco leveled a glare, cold enough to freeze hell over, at the elderly wizard. "If you think, even for a moment, that I would consent to you being anywhere near my children then you're delusional."

Ginny suddenly realized who this man was: Draco's old tutor. He described the man as barbaric and cruel when they'd last discussed him.

"I see you haven't yet forgiven me for teaching you some of the hardest lessons you've ever had to learn."

"The only thing you taught me was distrust," Draco snarled. "Now if you'll kindly take your leave... You've wasted quite enough of our time."

"I'm truly sorry you feel that way, Draco. I would have thought you would want the best for your children."

"I do, and that's exactly why you do not rate consideration." Draco rose from his chair, and strode over to the door, holding it open and looked expectantly at his former tutor. "Don't make me summon security, Sutherland."

"Very well." Professor Sutherland rose gracefully, and inclined his head in Ginny's direction. "Mrs. Malfoy."

Ginny only allowed the faintest of smiles to cross her features in response to the old wizard. She watched as he strolled casually towards the door, thankful that he'd decided to leave quietly, but when Professor Sutherland stopped right in front of Draco, her breath caught in her throat.

The old man looked his former student up and down. "You disappoint me, Draco."

Draco laughed coldly. "Good, because the last thing I ever wanted to do was please you."

Professor Sutherland shook his head in disgust, and took his leave.

Unable to resist, Draco slammed the door behind the Professor. Ginny watched her husband carefully. He was furious, and she was at a loss for words. If Draco had expanded on his feelings about the man, or how he had suffered at his hands, perhaps she would have had some idea of what to say to soothe the situation. As it stood, she sat there desperately searching her mind for the right words to calm him.

"Let's go to lunch," Draco said brusquely.

"Fine." Ginny began gathering the parchments on the long table, and placing them in the file Draco's secretary had handed them this morning.

Draco made his way around the table. Ginny's response was curt at best, and it hadn't taken him long to work out why. As she stood up, he pulled her into his arms.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you."

"Let's just go to lunch," Ginny suggested lightly.

"Gin, I really didn't mean to take my anger out on you." Draco searched her eyes, looking for just a hint of forgiveness.

"I know," she whispered.

When Draco noticed her eyes softening he leaned in and kissed her tenderly.

The boardroom door opened, disturbing the couple, but Draco didn't release his wife immediately. A pointedly cleared throat announced the arrival of someone who quite obviously wasn't going to leave graciously. There was only one person in the entire building arrogant enough to be still standing there. Draco's eyes flicked up to the door to confirm his suspicions, and his posture became rigid.

Lucius stepped into the room, unmindful that he was disturbing a private moment between husband and wife. "Did I see Professor Sutherland leaving?"

"Ginevra, could you give us a moment?" Draco said calmly.

Ginny looked at her husband. While he was calm, there was something very disturbing lingering just under the surface of his expression, and the use of her full given name set alarm bells off in her head. She smiled brilliantly at him, as if nothing was worrying her. "I have to use the lavatory, so I'll wait for you in your office."

Draco escorted her to the door. He placed a kiss on her forehead, and promised not to be long, before closing the door.

"Professor Sutherland didn't appear to be very happy," Lucius commented offhandedly the moment the door clicked shut.

Draco turned to face his father. "I'm not surprised."

"Did something go wrong in the interview?"

"Professor Sutherland was not invited to attend an interview by either myself or Ginny."

"And?"

"I told him to leave."

The slightest hint of surprise passed across Lucius' features. "I see."

"I don't think you do, Father."

"What makes you say that?"

"I thought I had made myself perfectly clear the other week, but apparently I was mistaken."

"How so?"

Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He knew his father was playing games with him, and if he didn't make himself abundantly clear, Lucius would claim to have not understood the next time he meddled in his affairs. "I'm going to tell you this just once more. Professor Sutherland is not an appropriate choice as a tutor for any child, let alone _my_ children. I will be making the final decision on who is appointed to the position, and unless I specifically ask for your opinion, I would be grateful if you kept it to yourself. I don't appreciate having my time wasted."

Lucius features hardened. "There was a time, not so long ago, that you valued my opinion."

Draco expelled a frustrated lung full of air. "I do value your opinion, but I do not appreciate you going behind my back like that. You're fully aware of my feelings regarding Professor Sutherland, so your underhanded plan was never going to work."

"I resent the implication that I did anything underhanded."

"I implied nothing. I stated it for a fact," Draco snarled. "Now I'm going to take my wife to lunch, where we'll be discussing the real applicants."

Without hesitation, Draco strode purposefully from the boardroom. He thought if he had to listen to any more of his father's reasons for inviting that man here he might just explode in a very undignified manner. When he reached his outer office he secretary informed him that Ginny was waiting in his office. Before entering, Draco took a few cleansing breaths. The last he wanted to do was take his foul mood out on Ginny again.

"Are you ready to go to lunch, love?" Draco hoped the smile on his face didn't appear false.

"Yes. Is everything all right?"

"Fine."

Ginny smiled unconvincingly. "Okay."

Draco draped her cloak over her shoulders. "Let's just go."

"All right."

Draco picked up the file with all the interview notes in it, and tucked it under his arm. He didn't really feel like discussing the applicants now, but he was well aware that a short list had to be decided upon sooner rather than later. "Do you want to Apparate or walk?"

"Walk. I feel like I need to stretch my legs."

"Walk it is then." Draco took his wife's hand and led her from the office. He stopped briefly to tell his secretary that he was unavailable for the remainder of the day, no matter what happened. The older woman reminded him of his schedule for the following day and handed him a file, which he accepted reluctantly.

Just as they reached the corridor, Lucius was coming out of the boardroom. The looks that passed between the two wizards could only be described as disdainful, and perhaps a little dangerous. Both were accustomed to getting their own way without a battle, and neither was adept at seeing another's point of view.

"You're leaving for the day?"

"Yes, we're going to lunch, and then home to take the children swimming."

"I see."

"We'll see you at home this evening," Ginny said brightly, again pretending nothing was wrong.

"Yes, I suppose I'll make it home eventually." Lucius paused for obvious effect. "With Draco gone for the rest of the day someone has to do the work."

"Really? I thought you were taking your work home with you, Draco?"

"I am," Draco replied, trying gallantly to hide the amusement in his tone. If only he could have captured his father's expression on film, perhaps in a Muggle photograph so Lucius' photographic self couldn't amend his surprised look. He had to give Ginny credit at times like this, she knew exactly when to speak up and put his father back in his place.

"Tell your mother I'll be home for dinner," Lucius intoned gruffly before turning on his heel and returning to his own office.

"Do you think I upset him?" Ginny asked with mock innocence.

"Mmm... I pretty sure you did." Draco smirked down at her. "He detests being called on things like that."

Ginny laughed. "Good, because he shouldn't fib."

"Let's get you out of here before you offend him irrevocably."

"Now that sounds like fun."

"No, now come on," Draco said, guiding Ginny down the corridor. They laughed quietly to themselves all the way to the elevator.

They walked hand in hand through Diagon Alley to the restaurant Draco had chosen for lunch. It was an intimate establishment he rather liked.

The maitre 'd seated the couple, and took their order before disappearing.

Draco placed the interview file on the table and looked expectantly at Ginny. "Who did you like?"

"Clare Sheehan," Ginny answered without hesitation.

"She's hardly got a world of experience."

"Just because she's not some moldy old wizard doesn't mean she's incapable of teaching the children."

"I didn't say that," Draco responded. "It's just that experience counts, and in some situations it's invaluable."

"She was the only one who actually showed an interest in the twins. None of your old men even asked about them."

"Which shows their professionalism. This interview was for them to show off _their_ credentials."

"First impressions count," Ginny stated resolutely. "I want someone who _wants_ to teach the kids, who really shows they care, and I think Clare is that person."

Draco sighed heavily. They both had very different views on what counted most in a tutor. "We need someone who is going to prepare them for Hogwarts, to push them to achieve to the best of their ability, not someone who is going to be their best friend."

"Who said she's not a hard task master in the classroom. There's nothing wrong with caring about your students."

"All right, I'll contact the—" Draco flicked through the file to the notes taken during Miss Sheehan's interview. "—Maddocks. It's easier to get their _real_ opinion of the woman face to face."

"So she's through to the second round?"

"_If_ the Maddocks are happy with her," Draco stressed. "Now who else did you consider worthy?"

Ginny frowned deeply in thought. All the applicants had good resumes, but none of the others seemed amicable enough for her liking. "I suppose the second one wasn't as bad as the rest."

"That would have been Mr. Merrythought. I wonder if he's related to Professor Merrythought."

"Who?"

"He used to teach at Hogwarts... well before our time. I think he taught Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Oh," Ginny uttered. Whether or not the man was related to some old Professor she had never heard of was beside the point. "Are we going to offer him a second interview?"

"Yes, I think we should." Draco looked down the original appointment sheet. "How about if we go through the applicants in order? It'll be easier than just randomly selecting who we liked."

"Fine," Ginny responded vaguely. She'd be hard pressed to not refuse everyone else on the list the position.

"We saw Professor Newmarch first."

"No, definitely not."

"Fine. We've already agreed Mr. Merrythought has a second interview, so Mr. O'Callaghan was next."

"He gave me the heebie-jeebies."

"He comes highly recommended."

"That's doesn't matter if I feel like I have to scrub my skin every time I'm in the same room as the man."

"Okay, he's out. What about Amherst?"

"I didn't like him."

"Why?"

"I don't know exactly... something just didn't feel right about him."

Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes and groan with frustration. He was beginning to wish he'd taken his father's advice, and made the decision on his own. "Ginny, he's well qualified, and that's what counts. There's absolutely no reason to eliminate him."

"You liked him?"

"I didn't find any reason not to like him, and I feel it would be foolish not to offer him a second interview."

"So my opinion doesn't count?"

This time Draco did roll his eyes and groan. "Of course your opinion counts. If it didn't we wouldn't be having this conversation."

Ginny sniffed affectedly. She wasn't convinced, but held her tongue while their order arrived.

"My opinion counts as well." Draco tried to catch her eyes, but failed when she deliberately averted her gaze. "We're allowed to have different opinions on things, aren't we?"

"Yes."

"There's no problem then. I would like to meet with Amherst again, and I'm putting him through to the next round of interviews."

"Fine," Ginny snapped.

Draco ignored Ginny's tone and moved forward. "What about Professor Haines?"

"Too old."

"I agree." Draco smiled across the table at her. "Mr. MacKenzie?"

Ginny expelled a large breath. She didn't like this wizard either, but it wasn't anything she could put her finger on specifically, just a gut feeling. "I don't know. There was something odd about him, don't you think?"

Draco arched an eyebrow in amusement. "Odd?"

"Yes. He didn't seem all that confident, and he did have to ask you several times to repeat questions."

"All right, he's out. I got the feeling he's a wee bit deaf, and that would be dangerous if the kids ever caught on. Mr. Conway was next."

"He was all right, I guess."

"We'll put him through to the second round then."

"Fine."

"Now we've already decided that Mr. Aldjoy is out, unless you've changed your mind."

"Nope."

"Miss Sheehan will be offered a second interview, pending a meeting with Mr. Maddock, and we're not even discussing the last applicant."

"How many second interviews do we have?"

"Four, including Miss Sheehan."

"When are we going to do them?"

"I can take a day off next week," Draco offered.

"It might be a bit much for the twins."

"What do you suggest, love?"

"Perhaps we could break it down into two afternoons?"

"You're just trying to get me home early two days in a row."

"It could be alternate days if you want."

"I'll see what I can arrange," Draco replied. "When I've decided what days I can finish early, I'll have my secretary send the owls."

"All right."

They finished their meals in relative silence. Ginny didn't know whether to be pleased with the outcome or not. While she'd almost secured another interview for Clare Sheehan, she was going to have to meet with the other three men again, and that was a little irritating. If she had her way, an owl would be on its way to Miss Sheehan right now, offering her the position.

"Are you ready?"

Draco's voice interrupted Ginny's thoughts.

"Umm— yes, let's go. The kids are probably driving your mother insane by now."

"Mother is more than likely having the time of her life," Draco replied as he assisted Ginny to her feet.

"Oh yes, I'm sure she'd be impressed with the constant requests to go swimming."

"We couldn't blame the kids for asking. I can't wait to get to the lake myself," Draco admitted.

"It will be nice to just relax for the rest of the afternoon."

"I'll pay the bill, and we'll get out of here then."

Within minutes they were making their way to the closest Apparation point. The thought of spending the afternoon by the cool water of their private lake put extra speed into their pace.

* * *

Draco's attention momentarily strayed from the twins. Ginny was standing a short distance away untying a sheer black wrap from around her waist. She looked delectable in her black bikini. The wrap pooled at her feet and Draco subconsciously licked his lips. There was something different about her, something very alluring. The notion of sending the twins back to the house, so he could make love to his wife by the lake, passed briefly through his mind. It disappeared with a no-so-subtle tug on his hand from Drake.

"Daddy, can we go in now?"

"Just wait for Mummy," Draco muttered absently, his eyes not leaving the sight of his wife.

Ginny walked towards her family, and as she got closer, she noticed Draco's eyes had darkened, and he was gazing at her in an almost predatory way. There was no doubt in her mind what was on his.

Draco disentangled himself from the twins, and took a few steps forward to meet his wife. His hands grasped her hips lightly, and he pulled her flush against his chest. "You look beautiful," he said throatily.

"Thank you," Ginny responded coyly.

"Is that the swimsuit you bought in France?"

"Yes."

"There's something different about it."

"Is there?"

"Mmm... I don't know what, but—"

"Are you two going to snog? 'Cause if you are, can me and Angel go swimming?"

The thoughts that ran through Draco's head at that moment were not entirely healthy for his heir. It was only the fact that spilling his son's blood would ruin the mood that stayed his temper.

"I think someone's getting a little impatient," Ginny said with quiet amusement.

"I'll give him bloody impatient," Draco muttered, mostly to himself.

"Leave it, Draco. It's hot... he just wants to cool off."

Draco muttered something unintelligible.

Ginny chose not to ask him to repeat what he'd said. "It sounds like you need to cool off too."

Draco allowed his wife to slip from his grasp and walk towards the water. The twins were quick to join her, each taking one of her hands. He cursed under his breath and began to move in the direction of his family. While he loved his children more than life itself, there were times when he wished he could dismiss them so he could have his wicked way with their mother.

Ginny carefully made her way down the bank to the water, and allowed her body to slowly sink into the refreshing water. Once she was entirely wet, she held her hands out for Drake. The little blond boy pushed himself off the bank and glided towards his mother.

"Come on, Daddy!" Angel stamped her foot impatiently.

"All right I'm coming, Princess," Draco replied. He walked along the pier and dove into the water, surfacing near Ginny and Drake. "Come on, Angel, see if you can swim out to me."

The strawberry blonde toed the water to check the temperature. "Can't you come a get me, Daddy?"

"Angel, the whole point of us coming to the lake today is to teach you to swim. I want to see how far you can get on your own, so I know where to start," Draco said patiently.

"But the water's cold!"

"It only feels really cold, because you're so hot. Now come on." Draco watched his daughter hover near the water's edge for a few more minutes. His patience was beginning to wear thin. He glanced over to where Ginny was trying to get Drake to float on his back and sighed heavily. "How about you walk along the pier, and I'll get you from there?"

"Okay!" Angel skipped up the bank and along the wooden jetty.

"Just jump off, and I'll catch you," Draco promised.

"But what if you miss?"

"I won't, Angel."

After a few more minutes of indecision a shrill squeal filled the air, and Angel jumped from the pier. She entered the water with a splash, and was quickly scooped up by her father.

"You didn't catch me," Angel spluttered indignantly as soon as she cleared her face of excess water.

"Yes I did."

"You didn't! My hair is wet!"

Draco resisted the urge to laugh. "Angel, we're swimming and the whole point of swimming is to get wet."

"I know that," Angel stated impertinently. "If you'd caught me, like you promised, my hair wouldn't be wet now."

The notion that he should have sent the children back to the house, and ravished his wife on the shore passed through his head again. It was becoming clear that Angel was more like Narcissa than anyone had ever thought. The fact that she was spending so much time with her grandmother now was just bringing out the princess in her even more.

"What's the problem?" Ginny asked as she drew closer.

"Her hair is wet," Draco muttered.

"Daddy didn't catch me and he promised."

Ginny just looked at her daughter incredulously for a moment. She was speechless. Never before had Angel worried about getting her hair wet when swimming. It only took a fraction of a second for her brain to come up with a reasonable explanation as to where this new fussiness was coming from — Narcissa. When her daughter's chin began to quiver, Ginny had to bite her tongue to keep herself from laughing aloud. "Angel, get over it."

The little girl looked at her mother as if she'd grown another head or had suddenly sprouted snakes in place of her flaming red hair. This was not the response she expected to receive. Her mother was supposed to be outraged that Daddy had not caught her like he promised, and as a result her hair was now wet.

Undeterred by the look her daughter was giving her, Ginny continued, "Now are you going to learn to swim or are you going back to the house to sulk?"

"Swim," Angel replied haughtily.

"That's what I thought."

Draco waited until his wife had moved away with their son before turning his attention solely back to Angel. "We'll teach you to float first."

"I can't float."

"That's why I'm going to teach you. Now lie back slowly."

"What if I don't float?"

"Angel, I'm not going to let you go until you can do it on your own," Draco responded with barely concealed anger. His patience was beginning to fray very quickly. The thought that one of them might not make it out of this lesson alive crossed his mind, but even more frighteningly he had an inkling it would be he who perished.

"Promise?"

"I promise, Angelique. Now please just trust me."

With great reluctance Angel began to recline in Draco's arms. She whimpered all the way, but finally managed to make all the way onto her back.

"Relax, Angel, I've got you, and I'm not letting go," Draco whispered. He knew getting angry with her wouldn't help, so he forced himself to keep his voice soft.

She relaxed a little, but not enough to successfully float on her own.

"Just lie back and enjoy it, sweetheart. You're not going to go under, because I've got you." Draco chanced a glance over at Ginny. Drake was happily floating on his back a short distance away from his mother. "Drake is doing it, and he's already floating on his own without Mummy's help."

Draco persevered for some time. He could hear Ginny praising Drake's efforts a short distance away, and felt he should be doing the same for Angel, but she'd not yet done anything that warranted praise. In fact all she had done was whimper continually and refuse to relax. It was all he could do to keep encouraging her, and hope she'd eventually get to the point where he could remove his hands. Patience was not his greatest virtue, apparently.

"Daddy! Daddy, watch me!" Drake demanded.

"Hold on a minute, mate," Draco replied, not taking his eyes off of Angel. "Ginny, how about we swap so Drake can show me what he's accomplished?"

She knew he'd been having a hard time with Angel, and it had occurred to her to ask him if he wanted to swap children earlier, but she didn't want to offend him by implying that she could do a better job of teaching Angel. "If you want to," Ginny responded lightly.

Draco lifted Angel out of the water and propped her on his hip. They made their way over to where Ginny and Drake were waiting to make the exchange. "You might be able to get her to cooperate a little better," Draco said softly.

"I'll try," Ginny replied with a small smile as she took Angel from his arms.

Drake had let go of his mother, and had moved through the water to cling to his father's arm. While his style was crude, he did make the few feet between his parents without sinking, and beamed up at Draco proudly.

"Let's see what you can do, mate," Draco said.

The little boy immediately pushed away from his father and positioned himself to float on his back. When he was done showing off, Drake again 'swam' back to Draco using a crude, but effective, stroke. "I'm good, aren't I, Daddy?"

"Yes, mate, you're very good. Now let's see if we can't correct that stroke, so it looks like you're swimming instead of drowning."

With a now attentive student, Draco patiently went through the motion of teaching his son his favorite stroke: freestyle. Drake absorbed every word his father uttered without argument, and before long he was swimming a few meters at a time with no trouble whatsoever.

Pleased with Drake's progress, Draco glanced over to where Ginny and Angel were. His daughter looked less than pleased as she broke the surface of the water, spluttering and glaring nastily at her mother. Ginny, on the other hand, appeared to be most amused with her daughter. She'd adopted a more brutal method to teach Angel to swim — sink or swim — much to the little girl's disgust.

"Gin, do you want to swap back?"

"It's getting late, and I think Angel's had enough for today," Ginny responded quickly.

"Do you want to head back to the house?"

"Yes, I think it would be a good idea. By the time we all have showers, it'll almost be time for dinner."

"All right, love. Come on, Drake, you heard Mummy."

"Do we have to get out?"

"Yes, we do. Now do you think you can swim to the shore?"

The little blond wizard nodded enthusiastically. "Yep!"

"Off you go then."

Draco followed his son to the shore, keeping a close watch for any sign of fatigue or panic from the little boy, but it was all for naught. Drake reached the bank of the lake without any problems. After lifting Angel from the water, Draco assisted Ginny to the grassy bank and finally lifted himself out. The warm sun began drying his wet skin instantly, making the need for a towel superfluous.

With their towels billowing like capes, the twins ran back to the house, giggling all the way. Just watching them was enough to make Draco feel very tired. He'd discovered that swimming with children clinging to your person was far more tiring than swimming alone. He threw the towel Ginny offered him over his shoulder and snaked his arm around her waist, before heading back to the house at a more leisurely pace.

By the time Draco and Ginny made it to their family parlor doors, the children were nowhere in sight. Draco summoned Millie, but received no response from the aging house elf, much to his displeasure.

"She's probably with the twins," Ginny said with an air of indifference.

"It doesn't matter, she should answer me _immediately_."

"Draco, she may not be able to leave the twins at the moment, so why don't we just go and find them ourselves."

"Fine," Draco agreed begrudgingly. Even though the servant was more than likely with the children, and unable to leave them, it still irked him that she'd not responded to his summons. "I just wanted to know if she knew where they were anyway."

"We can discover that for ourselves," Ginny responded lightly, trying not to laugh at the expression on his face. When all was said and done, her husband was still a spoiled little boy, who wanted exactly what he desired, when he wanted, with no arguments or delays. She tugged him forward in an effort to keep him moving in the right direction—the direction in which her bathroom was.

As they entered the corridor leading to their private suites, Millie was seen hurrying from Drake's suite into Angel's.

"You go ahead and get a shower," Draco offered. "I'll just check on the twins."

"All right, but on one condition."

"What might that be?" Draco asked cheekily.

"No telling Millie off or punishing her for not answering you."

Draco gazed at his wife with disbelief. It wasn't quite what he'd been expecting. Perhaps a sultry 'don't be long', or maybe a coy 'join me as soon as you can', anything but the words that put a reproving tone into her voice. "I won't," he muttered.

"Good." Ginny smiled and brazenly ran her hand over his swimming shorts. "Now don't be too long."

Draco swallowed hard and smirked down at her, plucking her hand from his shorts before he could react to her touch. He placed light kiss on her forehead and whispered, "I promise."

A thousand small things ran through his head as he strode down the corridor to the twins' rooms. He'd have to instruct them to prepare for dinner, and go downstairs when they were ready. Of course, Drake's attire would need to be agreed upon before he left the little boy to his own devices, because they were eating with their grandparents this evening, and Narcissa still held firm to her rule of dressing for dinner.

Over the top of his thoughts of the children, came entirely wicked ideas of what he was going to do to his wife when he had her alone. She'd been driving him insane all afternoon, and now he was more than ready to have his wicked way with her. As he entered Angel's bedchamber, Draco pushed aside the naughty thoughts, and focused on what he had to do, so he could return to his wife as soon as possible.

"Millie!"

"Master, Millie is sorry for—"

"Never mind that," Draco snapped. "I presume the children are bathing at the moment. When they are ready, see that they dress appropriately for dinner with my parents and send them down to my mother's parlor."

"As Master wishes." The servant bowed low to the floor as Draco turned on his heel and left the room.

He wasted no time returning to his own bedchamber, closing the door firmly behind him as he entered. Ginny was already in the shower and with time growing short, Draco decided to combine two activities into one. As he crossed the room, he dropped the two articles of clothing he was wearing on the floor. At the bathroom door, he paused for a moment. He could hear Ginny quietly humming to herself over the spray of the water. A smirk crept upon his face as he surreptitiously pushed the door open, and snuck into the steamy room, closing the door silently behind himself.

He stepped into the shower, and snaked his arms around his wife possessively. His hands glided over her wet skin, caressing the underside of her breasts before slipping down to sit on her stomach. Upon feeling a change in her body, his hands felt around Ginny's stomach. It was flat only weeks before, and now it felt as though there was a slight bump. Draco pulled away from her, and turned her around to face him, dropping to his knees he examined her stomach closely.

Ginny smiled vaguely at the astonished expression on Draco's face. "I'm starting to show," she whispered.

"That's my child."

"Yes it is."

"I didn't realize you were getting—" Draco paused, searching his mind for the right word.

"Fat?"

"Not fat," Draco responded strongly, shaking his head.

"We'll see if you still feel that way in a few months."

"I will. You could never be fat."

Ginny laughed lightly. "Oh yes, I can and I will."

Draco stood up and pulled her against his chest. "Not to me, not when you're carrying my child."

Ginny's response was lost, as his lips possessed hers passionately. She'd worried about how Draco would react when she began to show. She knew he was looking forward to the birth of their baby, but there was still quite a way to go, and quite a bit of weight for her to gain. The notion that he might change his mind about her once she was heavily pregnant weighed on her mind occasionally.

"You're beautiful," Draco whispered huskily as he released her mouth. Even though the bump of his child was almost non-existent, he knew he'd never think any woman was more beautiful than his pregnant wife. There was something empowering about the knowledge that he was responsible for the changes in her appearance.

The desire to possess her entirely was almost overwhelming, but even though he felt like slamming her against the tiles and taking her instantly, Draco resisted. His hands caressed her body reverently; after all she was the mother of his unborn child.

Ginny melted into his touch. His tongue was leaving a trail of fire down her neck. Her core had just begun to blaze intensely from his ministrations.

"Mummy!"

"Oh, god," Ginny groaned, pulling away from the comfort of Draco's hold.

"Mummy, where are you?"

"Shit," Draco cursed.

"I'll be there in a moment, Drake," Ginny called.

"Gin," Draco pleaded. He knew if they abandoned their 'play' now they wouldn't get back to it for hours, and the thought of remaining this frustrated for that long horrified him.

"I have to, Draco." Ginny extracted herself from his hands, and stepped out of the shower stall. "Otherwise he'll come in here."

The look on Draco's face was pitiful, but there was little Ginny could do about it now. She could hear Drake moving about on the other side of the door. Ginny reached for a fluffy towel, but froze in motion when the door handled rattled. In her rush to sufficiently cover her nakedness, Ginny dropped the towel.

"There you are—"

Ginny tossed a quick glance over her shoulder as she scooped up the towel and threw it haphazardly around her body. It was too late though; the expression on her son's face told her that all too clearly. "Drake, sweetheart, why don't you wait in our sitting room and I'll be right there?"

Drake wasn't listening. His attention was focused on his father.

Draco had all but frozen in the shower when the door burst open, and the physical effect his wife had upon him was evident for all to see.

"Draco," Ginny hissed.

Upon hearing the low hiss from his wife, Draco finally moved to cover himself, albeit far too late to shield his son from the very pointed knowledge of what a woman can do to a man. His son's unexpected entry into the room had not had the usual effect upon his body that a disturbance would usually have had, proving his level of frustration beyond doubt.

"Drake, go and wait in the sitting room like your mother told you," Draco finally managed to utter irritably.

"But you—"

"Now!"

The little wizard turned and left the room without argument, but not without sending a nasty scowl in Draco's direction.

"I'd better go and see him," Ginny whispered.

"No, I'll go. I don't like the look on his face," Draco insisted.

"Draco, he won't give—"

"He could and I won't have it, so just let me deal with him." Draco exited the shower and dried himself quickly. When he left the bathroom, he hoped Drake had gone to the sitting room. He needed a little time to bring himself under control, preferably before pulling his trousers on.

Drake was nowhere to be seen in the bedchamber or dressing room, and Draco was thankful. At the very least he wanted to have some trousers on before talking to his son about knocking before entering a room, and other things Drake was likely to bring up just to torment him.

With the prospect of having another one of those talks with his son, Draco took his time dressing for dinner. When he could delay leaving the dressing room no longer, he went looking for Drake. The search didn't last long as the little boy was waiting in the sitting room. Draco took stock of Drake's expression before making his presence known. The little boy still looked somewhat goaded.

"Drake," Draco started as he lowered his frame into a chair opposite his son. "You need to remember to knock before you enter any room, especially if there are adults in the room."

"You were—"

"We're married."

"Not—"

"It's not naughty."

"But—"

"No buts, mate, we're allowed to and that's all there is to it."

"My mummy," Drake muttered discontentedly, sliding off the couch and heading for the door.

"My wife."

Draco watched his son leave the room with a smirk on his face. Drake would get over his mood, and more than likely help himself to feel better by mortifying his parents at the appropriate time with an entirely inappropriate comment. The knowledge that he'd be utterly mortified at some point in the not too distant future was oddly comforting to Draco. It meant he was beginning to read his son in a way that only a father can.

Ginny stood in the doorway of the sitting room. "Did you have a chat to Drake?"

"Yeah, I think we have a new understanding."

"Good." Ginny wandered into her dressing room with Draco following her back as far as the bedchamber. "Do we really have to eat with your parents tonight?"

"You accepted the invitation," Draco reminded her.

"Damn! I suppose I wouldn't get away with not dressing, would I?"

"I think you might distract Father from his meal if you didn't."

Ginny poked her head out of the dressing room and pulled a face at an amused Draco. "Very funny."

"Just hurry up. Mother will be impossible if we're late."

"Don't rush me," Ginny grumbled good-naturedly.

Draco dropped himself into one of the chairs by the hearth to wait for his wife.

Minutes later Ginny appeared in the doorway partially dressed. "Can you zip me up?"

"Of course, love." Draco rose and moved to do her bidding. "You look, beautiful."

"Thank you." Ginny smoothed the front of her navy blue silk robes with her hands.

"Are you ready? Mother wanted to have pre-dinner drinks in the parlor."

Ginny had no idea why Narcissa would insist on having drinks before dinner, especially considering she couldn't drink and it was only the family, but she dare not question her mother-in-law's plans. "Yes, we'd better go down before your mother sends a servant to see where we are."

Draco chuckled lightly at the good-natured gibe towards his mother, and offered his arm formally to his wife. Ginny tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow, much in the same manner she'd seen Narcissa do with Lucius, and giggled softly.

They strolled downstairs slowly, talking softly between themselves about unimportant things. As they approached the parlor they could hear the animated voices of the twins floating out into the corridor.

_"And Daddy didn't catch me and he promised, and my hair got all wet," Angel's pained voice expressed._

_"I thought you had fun at the lake this afternoon, Angel?" Narcissa's melodic tone queried._

_"Where is Draco?" Lucius grumbled. "Narcissa, what time did you tell them to meet us for dinner?"_

_"I'm sure they're not far away, dearest. After all the children have managed to arrive on time."_

_"They had a shower," Drake offered quietly._

_"What?" Lucius exclaimed, clearly not understanding the significance of this morsel of information._

_"They had a shower... together," Drake clarified._

Draco groaned inwardly. It seemed his son was going to endeavor to make himself feel better about his scolding sooner rather than later. Before Drake could spill any more of his parents' secrets Draco rushed into the parlor. He arrived just in time to see an amused smirk cross his father's face.

"Drake," Draco growled. "We don't share certain... _things_ in front of ladies."

The little boy rolled his eyes at his father. "But I didn't tell anyone you were shagging, just having a shower."

An odd sound escaped Lucius at that moment. He had valiantly tried to swallow a snort of laughter, but it came out sounding strangled anyway. This display more than made up for the incident at the office.

Draco's eyes flicked to his parents. Lucius was obviously finding this all too amusing. Narcissa, on the other hand, looked mortified. Draco wasn't certain which reaction he preferred. He could hear Ginny behind him, but he was too afraid to turn around and look at her. If the ground would just open up and swallow him, he'd be a happy man.

"Draco?" Narcissa questioned sharply.

"We weren't sh—" Draco stopped himself as his mother's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Yes you were! Your—" Drake pointed to the area south of his father's belt. "—thing was—"

Draco clamped a hand across his son's mouth quickly, putting a stop to Drake actually expressing the words, but it was too late. Everyone knew what he'd been about to say; and there was no point in pretending otherwise.

Narcissa rose and crossed the room to stand in front of her son. "What do you mean by allowing a child to see you like— like that?"

"I didn't invite him in, Mother. He entered the bathroom without knocking first," Draco ground out. "Now if you'll excuse us, Drake and I have to discuss this matter again, before it gets any further out of hand."

Drake had no choice but to walk with his father from the parlor. Draco's hand held his shoulder firmly, and guided him to a small receiving room a short distance away. It was far enough away that the rest of the family wouldn't overhear them. When they stopped Draco knelt in front of his son, and held his shoulders.

"You fibbed," Drake said portentously.

"I didn't fib," Draco started calmly. "Your mother and I were not doing anything when you entered the bathroom. If you recall, your mother was not in the shower when you came in."

"You had been," Drake uttered defiantly.

"No, we hadn't, because you called out when you entered our suite, so we knew you were coming."

Drake thought about what his father was telling him. It was true. Mummy hadn't been in the shower when he walked into the bathroom.

"Not that any of that matters," Draco continued. "Because we're married, and what married people do is there own business, right?"

The little wizard nodded miserably.

"And it's not naughty, because we're married, right?"

Drake nodded again.

"Good. Now all we need is for you to stop sprouting off to everyone each time I get within a foot of your mother."

Drake stared sullenly at the wall. It wasn't the first time he'd been told not to say things about his parents.

"Look, I know this is all still fairly new to you, but I really thought you'd be over tattling to everyone by now. What you're doing is rude and entirely inappropriate."

"Sorry," Drake mumbled. "I didn't mean to tell."

"Well, you could have fooled me. When we go back in there you're going to apologise to your mother and then to everyone else. Is that clear?"

"Yes."

"And you're never going to say anything like that again, are you?"

"No."

"Good." Draco rose and held out his hand to his son. "Come on then."

Drake regarded his father's hand with open reluctance. He didn't like making apologies, and wasn't looking forward to returning to the parlor.

"Drake?"

The little wizard sighed loudly, before taking his father's hand grudgingly. There was no getting out of what he had to do.

Draco led the way back to the parlor, almost resorting to pulling Drake along at times. When they entered conversations came to a stop and all eyes rested on the little blond boy. Draco steered him in the direction of his mother first.

"I'm sorry, Mummy," Drake almost whispered.

"All right."

As soon as Ginny accepted his apology, Drake's eyes flicked up to meet with his father's. He was pleading silently to be given a reprieve to not be forced to apologise to everyone else, but it was all in vain.

"You're not yet finished," Draco reminded him quietly.

Drake turned to face his grandparents, and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry I told you about Daddy in the shower with Mummy."

Narcissa cleared her throat politely, and tried to suppress the smile threatening to tug at her lips. She couldn't help her reaction. Her grandson looked so forlorn standing in front of everyone, and he was entirely oblivious to the fact that he'd just made another social faux pas.

Under normal circumstances Lucius would have reprimanded the young boy for repeating what he had done wrong so carelessly, but the pained expression on Draco's face was amusing him more than it ought to have, and he couldn't bring himself to be serious. Rather than show his open hilarity, Lucius turned around, so Drake wouldn't see the smirk he couldn't contain.

When it became obvious his parents weren't capable of responding just at the moment, Draco stepped in to end his own pain, as well as his son's. "Thank you, Drake. Why don't you go and sit down for while, we'll be having dinner soon."

"Yes, Daddy."

Draco waited until his son had clambered up beside his grandmother before turning around. "I need a drink," he muttered, making his way to where an open bottle of Firewhisky sat on the side bar.

Lucius followed his son. "You handled that with—"

"Without an ounce of control," Draco finished. "I swear he's going to be the death of me one day."

"Ah, what goes around comes around, son."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It's your penance for mortifying me time and again." Lucius chuckled at Draco's expression. "You've ended up with a son who is exactly like you."

Draco muttered something under his breath about the world being against him, and it being entirely unfair.

"Oh, but it is fair. Justice has been served in my eyes." Lucius laid a sympathetic hand on his son's shoulder. "You can take comfort in the fact that it's happened to you, just like it happened to me, so there's every chance Drake will end up with a child exactly like himself."

"At the moment, I don't feel lucky enough to even hope for such a thing." Draco took a rather large gulp of his drink. "I swear if he keeps going one of us isn't going to make it out alive."

"I don't believe he intentionally gave away your secret this time, it slipped when he was trying to clarify what he'd said."

"It doesn't matter, Father. He shouldn't have said anything."

"Granted, but he was trying to be helpful."

Draco grunted unintelligibly.

"What did happen?" Lucius enquired cautiously.

The thought that he should simply not answer did cross Draco's mind, but then commonsense prevailed, and he saw the opportunity to straighten out any misconceptions. "We were showering, but we heard Drake coming. Ginny got out, but before she could cover herself, Drake barged into the bathroom. He drew his own conclusions from there."

"He made mention of your... err, appearance."

Draco gave his father a withering glare. "I'm not made of stone."

"I never thought you were, but the _shower_?"

"Well, it didn't happen," Draco snapped, his frustration rising to the surface. He was almost tempted to tell his father that it wouldn't have been the first time, but he stopped himself. There was such a thing as too much information, no matter how frustrated he was.

"Shall we go through to the dining room?" Narcissa asked.

"Of course, dearest." Lucius moved immediately to escort his wife from the room.

Draco quickly downed the rest of his drink. He wished he could have another just to dull the pain of humiliation a little more, but the berating he'd earn from his mother wasn't worth the trouble. When he turned around Ginny was the only one still in the parlor with him.

"Are you all right, love?"

"Yes, I'm fine." Ginny smiled warmly at him. While Drake could cause immense embarrassment at times, she was more accustomed to his antics than Draco, and as such she didn't get quite as ruffled as he did, at least most of the time.

"I hope I got through to him this time."

"Only time will tell."

"Are you sure you're all right?"

"I'm fine. Yes, it was embarrassing, but it's not like your parents think we don't do it or anything. They know and besides we are newlyweds — it's expected."

Draco smirked and drew her to his chest. "It is expected," he uttered thickly.

"We wouldn't want to disappoint anyone."

"That wouldn't be very nice of us."

"No, it wouldn't."

Draco lowered his head and muttered, "Definitely not."

Their lips met gently, the passion of an hour ago still evident, but restrained given their location and recent mortification.

"We should go to dinner," Ginny whispered as they parted.

"Mmm..." Draco's hands ran up her back in a way that distinctly let her know that food was the last thing on his mind.

Ginny stepped back. "Come on, before you start trying to change my mind."

"Would I do that?"

"I'm surprised you haven't already tried."

Draco stepped away from her and offered his arm in an exaggerated gesture. "My dear."

Ginny eyed him amusedly. "Can I trust you?"

"Of course you can." Draco winked playfully at her. "Mummy gets upset when I'm a naughty boy."

Ginny laughed heartily. Her husband's wide-eyed quasi-innocent expression was too much for her. "All right, I trust you."

As they entered the dining room, Ginny brought her amusement under control, but only temporarily. Narcissa was frowning at them. Ginny didn't know if it was because they'd taken so long to come to the table, or if they were making too much noise doing it. Either way she started giggling again.

Draco held his wife's chair, and waited patiently for her to stem her giggles before taking her seat. His overly amused expression wasn't helping her at all.

"How nice of you to join us... finally," Narcissa said, making no effort to disguise her annoyance.

"Our apologies, Mother," Draco intoned politely, taking his seat next to Ginny.

Narcissa neither accepted, nor dismissed her son's apology. She simply pinned him with a frosty look, before demanding dinner be served.

Even as his head turned to look at Ginny, he knew it was a mistake, but Draco couldn't quite help himself. He quirked his eyebrows cheekily at his wife, and she dissolved into fits of giggles again.

With the help of the icy blue glare from the opposite side of the table, Ginny quickly brought herself under control. Over the past months, she had learned that Narcissa demanded appropriate behavior most of the time, but most especially at the dinner table. It was one of the reasons Ginny preferred to eat in their own dining room. She preferred to eat in a relaxed setting, where she could laugh aloud if she felt the need, and she didn't have to worry about offending someone — namely her in-laws.

Within minutes, the servants had served the meal, and had retreated back to the kitchen. The family ate in relative silence until Drake began telling his grandparents of his prowess in the water. Between mouthfuls, the little boy explained exactly how he could now swim competently, despite only having had one lesson.

"I swam all the way to the shore, and I didn't get puffed at all," Drake told everyone seriously. "And I can float forever!"

"Perhaps after some more lessons you'll be able to swim away from your parents," Lucius commented.

"I can now," Drake refuted strongly. "I don't need Mummy or Daddy. I can swim."

"One lesson hardly makes you proficient enough to swim unsupervised," Lucius countered.

Drake leveled a spiteful glare at his grandfather.

As Lucius opened his mouth to speak again, Draco hurriedly swallowed his mouthful and cut him off. "Drake, you're not allowed near the lake without an adult present, no matter how well you swim, or think you can swim. The lake can be very dangerous, and no one is allowed to swim there alone."

The little blond wizard muttered something to his dinner plate that no one quite heard.

As Draco had stepped in, Lucius chose to ignore the look Drake had sent him. "Perhaps it might be an idea to set some rules about swimming, if you haven't already, so we don't have an unfortunate accident."

"I was thinking along the same lines myself," Draco admitted. "We were a bit rushed between coming back from the lake and presenting for dinner, so I didn't have a chance to have a chat to either of them."

"You wouldn't have been if you'd delayed certain activities until a more appropriate time," Narcissa commented acerbically.

Rather than rise to his mother's barb, Draco ignored her entirely. Something that was certain to earn him even more black marks against his name, but he didn't much care at this stage. With an amused smirk, he focused solely on his father. "I'll have a word to them after dinner."

"Good," Lucius replied. While he had Draco's undivided attention, he sent him a look that warned him about playing with fire, but all he got in return was a mischievous smirk. He could see this erupting into something considerably dangerous later on in the evening. Narcissa certainly wouldn't be pleased at being ignored like that, and he was sure to hear all about her displeasure.

For the remainder of the meal Narcissa busied herself with the children and giving orders to the servants. She blatantly ignored the efforts of the other adults to draw her into any conversation they were having. Accustomed to biding her time, Narcissa didn't mind waiting until a more suitable moment to vent her displeasure with her son, a moment when her grandchildren were certain not to overhear the berating he deserved. When Drake and Angel finished their dessert, she ushered them away from the table and into the parlor, without inviting anyone else.

Lucius watched his wife depart and turned his mercurial eyes to his son. "Fix this before you retire for the evening."

"Any suggestions on how I can do that?"

"Distraction is good. Give her something new to think about... surely you have some good news you can share with her."

"I'll think of something," Draco muttered, his mind already filtering through ideas and dismissing them immediately.

"Shall we join Narcissa in the parlor?" Ginny suggested, getting to her feet as she spoke — a move that brought both Lucius and Draco to their feet immediately.

"Yes, best not to give her too much opportunity to dwell on her anger," Lucius agreed.

They found Narcissa in the seated on a love seat in the parlor with the twins either side of her. She had already opened a storybook, and was reading to them in a soft tone, a tone that belied her true demeanor at that moment.

As his father passed him a tumbler of Firewhisky, Draco was still trying to come up with a suitable topic of conversation that might take his mother's mind off of her fury. His eyes drifted to Ginny. She was sipping a steaming cup of tea near the French doors. One of her hands was resting protectively over the slight bump in her belly. Draco smirked triumphantly. His mother adored talking about the baby. It was the perfect topic to distract her temper.

"Mother, did you notice that Ginny is beginning to show?" Draco asked almost imperturbably.

Narcissa's eyes slipped up to appraise her daughter-in-law, then wandered over to her son. "I noticed last week... her clothes were straining."

From the cool tone of Narcissa's voice, Draco knew he'd been unsuccessful. He sent an apologetic look to Ginny, who had an obvious look of disbelief on her face. She hadn't deserved that indirect slur. Draco wandered over to his mother, and leaned down so she wouldn't miss a word of what he was about to say. "That was uncalled for. You owe Ginny an apology."

The glare Narcissa cast at her son could have cut through solid stone. As she averted her gaze to her daughter-in-law her eyes softened marginally. "I do apologize, Ginevra, but you really ought to go shopping," Narcissa said haughtily.

One glance at Ginny told Lucius she had an equally nasty barb brewing in her mind. He hastily cleared his throat in an effort to cut off her response, and hopefully avoid a malevolent confrontation. If Narcissa had noticed any change in their daughter-in-law's appearance he knew he would have most certainly heard all about it through an excited oration, because if there was one thing his wife was looking forward to, it was the birth of her next grandchild. "Perhaps you and Ginevra could plan a shopping excursion," he suggested easily.

Draco immediately made his way to Ginny's side, to silence the objection she obviously had burning on her tongue. "Shh, Father knows what he's doing."

"If she thinks for a minute—" Ginny hissed in Draco's ear.

"She'll commit to nothing in this mood," Draco whispered in return, hoping it would be enough to stay any comments Ginny might make. "Father is just trying to get her to stop with the spiteful comments."

Ginny gave her husband a cynical look. If Narcissa thought it would irk her more to agree to a shopping trip, then Ginny was positive she'd have the expedition planned in moments, despite how she really felt.

"I'll have to check my calendar," Narcissa sniffed affectedly.

Draco smirked at Ginny in a manner that all but voiced, 'I told you so'.

"Just as well," Ginny mumbled.

"Come on, we'll just keep our distance for the time being, and let her entertain the children until bedtime," Draco said, guiding Ginny further away from his mother. "Father can handle her on his own, because I'm out of ideas."

"Why is she doing this?" Ginny asked. It wasn't as if there had been an argument or anything to inflame Narcissa's annoyance, so Ginny was a little perplexed as to why she was continuing with the attitude.

"Firstly, she wouldn't be happy about what Drake almost told everyone." Draco paused when he noticed the affronted expression on his wife's face. "Don't look at me like that. Mother has obviously made up her mind about what we were doing, and what our son saw, and she won't be deterred, so there's no point trying."

"No matter that we weren't doing anything."

"No, it doesn't matter. She's stubborn, and the best thing to do is let it lie. Secondly, I ignored her at dinner when she made that comment about why we were late. That didn't please her, because she's itching for an argument for some reason."

"I don't understand why."

"It probably has nothing to do with us personally, she's just in a mood," Draco offered. "Most likely one of her friends has upset her."

"I don't know why she bothers with those women." Ginny hadn't been impressed by any of the women Narcissa had introduced her to at the garden tea party she'd hosted before their wedding. "All of them are nasty pieces of work."

Draco laughed heartily. "My mother is the Queen of Nasty in that group."

"Oh I didn't mean—"

"You got it right the first time," Draco assured her. "They are a nasty bunch, as anyone who crosses them discovers. Mother will seek vengeance on the poor soul who upset her, and then she'll be happy again."

"What sort of vengeance?"

"The usual thing is to humiliate the other party somehow. I generally don't get involved, or even ask about what it is that goes on with that sort of thing."

"So until then we all suffer?"

"No, she'll be all right in the morning. I'd say whatever has happened unfolded sometime today."

"Why don't we just ask her about it?"

"It would be like opening a can of proverbial worms, Ginny. Once she started, she'd go through each of the women in her group, and tear them to shreds. We wouldn't be able to get away."

"Maybe if she talked about it, and realized that she had family support, she wouldn't feel so horrid."

"Ginny, don't do it. If Mother wanted to talk about it our ears would be full of her indignant shrieks by now, and besides the children aren't old enough to hear some of things she'd be likely to say about her so called friends."

"All right then, I won't ask tonight," Ginny conceded.

Draco breathed a silent sigh of relief. "Good."

"I'll ask her tomorrow."

"If you feel you should," Draco muttered. It didn't bother him one way or another if Ginny asked tomorrow while he was at the office. She would learn for herself that sometimes it was better to ignore the mood until his mother was feeling more sociable again.

"I do and you could show a little more concern," Ginny scolded.

"Gin, I've done this a fair few more times than you have. Believe me when I tell you she'll be over it soon enough."

"She still needs to know the family supports her, especially when she's been upset."

"All right, do what you have to do, just wait until I'm at the office please." Draco pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily. "The twins look tired."

"Yes, all the swimming this afternoon would have worn them out," Ginny agreed. "We could probably put them to bed now without much of a fight."

"Let's do that. I've got a heap of work to get through tonight, and if I don't start soon, I'll never get done."

"You're going to work?"

"I have to, Ginny, so don't look at me like that. You know I brought work home with me today."

"I know," she admitted softly. "We still have to have a word with the twins about the swimming rules."

"Let's save that until we're upstairs," Draco suggested. "There's really only one rule I want to impress upon them anyway."

"Oh?"

"No swimming without an adult present."

"Sounds reasonable."

"There's no point in getting too far ahead of ourselves, and confusing them with more rules than they need."

Ginny smiled at her husband. "I couldn't agree more."

"Mother, it's time for the children to go to bed," Draco said gently.

"Very well," Narcissa responded in a clipped tone. She closed the storybook, and embraced the twins in turn, wishing them sweet dreams before encouraging them to bid goodnight to their grandfather.

When his mother was free of the children, Draco approached her cautiously. There was no way of knowing just how she'd react, but he couldn't very well leave the room without bidding her goodnight. "Goodnight, Mother."

"You're retiring for the evening?"

"Not really, but I have a great deal of work to get through, so I won't be returning to the parlor."

"I see. Ginevra, what are you doing?"

Ginny smiled in what she hoped was a warm manner. If Narcissa wanted her company this evening, she couldn't tell by the icy tone the older woman posed the question with. "Umm—I might get an early night. All the swimming this afternoon has tired me out."

"Very well, good evening."

"Good night, Narcissa," Ginny uttered quietly with her smile still intact.

Draco placed a chaste kiss on his mother's cheek. "Goodnight, Mother."

"Draco," Narcissa sniffed. "Don't work too late."

"I won't."

After bidding goodnight to Lucius, Draco and Ginny escorted their children upstairs, and assisted them into their pajamas. As the twins were tucked into bed, Draco made certain they both had a full understanding of what the swimming rule was, and sought assurances from both of them that they'd never break the rule. Angel readily agreed not to ever swim without an adult present, but Drake argued the point for a few minutes before conceding reluctantly.

Draco escorted Ginny to their chambers. He really wasn't in the mood to work this evening, but he had no choice. "I'll finish as quickly as I can."

"Are you sure you have to do it tonight? Wouldn't you rather—"

"Not another word, Mrs. Malfoy," Draco said with a naughty twinkle in his eye. "Don't tempt me to be wicked."

"Sounds like it wouldn't take much," Ginny responded cheekily.

"Which is why I'm going to leave you now, and go to my study." Draco kissed her forehead reverently. "Work first, play later."

Ginny sighed softly. "All right."

Draco strode away from his wife unwillingly. He knew she was watching him, waiting for him to turn around, but he knew if he did he wouldn't make it to his study tonight and he couldn't leave his work any longer.

* * *

Even after a couple of hours of solid work, Draco knew he still had several more in front of him if he wanted to make a competent showing at the meeting he had scheduled for the morning. His mind was just beginning to drift when a noise at the door garnered his attention. He smirked as he watched his wife slip into his inner sanctum.

The filmy negligee she wore over her very nearly transparent nightgown did little to hide the underlying nakedness of her body. Draco watched her cross the room and walk around his desk. He subconsciously wet his lips, and his groin gave an almost indiscernible twitch. She was playing dirty. He knew it, and she knew it, but he did nothing to stop her from pushing his chair back, and straddling his legs.

"Why don't you come to bed?"

Draco sighed heavily, resting his forehead on hers. There was nothing he wanted more than to go to bed right now, ravish his wife, and then drop into a sleep that would rival the dead. However, he still had work to do. "I can't."

Ginny pouted and gazed at him from under her lashes. "I know you want to." She rubbed herself against his now bulging pants.

"Gin," Draco moaned. "Play fair."

"No," she responded petulantly.

"I have to finish this for a meeting tomorrow," he stressed, placing his hands on her hips and stilling her movement. "Believe me, love, I wish I could come to bed now."

"Can't you finish it in the morning?"

"The meeting is first thing in the morning, so I need to finish up before I go to bed." Her disappointed expression burned into him.

"I could help you."

"You'd distract me." He ran his hands up her sides. If she didn't leave soon the temptation to lay her across his desk, and have his wicked way with her was going to be too much to deny. "Now go to bed. I'll be up soon."

"Promise?"

"You have my word." He placed a small kiss on her nose, vowing to himself he'd not work all night.

"All right, but you'd better not be too long," Ginny warned huskily.

Draco assisted her off his lap, barely suppressing a small sigh of relief, and watched her slink to the door. The look she gave him just before closing the door behind her just about nullified his resolution to do the right thing, and get his work finished before partaking in more entertaining activities. He shook his head to clear his thoughts, and tried to focus on the parchments in front of him, cursing the incompetent fool who had not completed the research on the company he was attempting to do business with. If he didn't get on with it he'd be lucky to make it to bed before dawn.

* * *

_**AUTHOR'S NOTES**_

_Huge thanks to Rainpuddle13 for her sensational beta skills and plot discussions._


	6. Business Before Pleasure

**_Disclaimer_**_: I don't own any of the characters you may recognize from the wonderful world of Harry Potter, they all belong to the revered JK Rowling; I just like to play with them a little._

**CHAPTER SIX**

**BUSINESS BEFORE PLEASURE**

Ginny awoke alone in their massive bed. She was feeling just a little disenchanted as she swung her feet over the side of the bed. Draco had not kept his promise from the night before, and had obviously already risen for the day. Despite suspecting he would have already left for the office, Ginny summoned Millie.

"Where is Draco?"

"Master did leave for work very early, Mistress."

Ginny sighed heavily with disappointment. "Are the children awake?"

"Yes, Mistress. Master Drake and Miss Angelique has eaten their breakfast and is playing in the playroom."

"Thank you."

"Will Mistress be liking her breakfast now?"

"No, I'll shower first."

"As Mistress wishes."

Ginny closed the bathroom door just as the elderly servant Disapparated from her bedchamber. She sighed heavily as she turned the water on and undressed. A thousand reasons why Draco had broken his promise roamed through her head. The more she tried to reason out why, the more frustrated she became. After his reaction last night about the baby, she'd have thought he'd have been eager to join her in bed, but it seemed, she was wrong.

It was then that the most upsetting of reasons for his absence burrowed into her conscious thoughts: now that she was beginning to show, he wasn't attracted to her. She slapped herself mentally and reminded herself of their shower the evening before. Even though they'd been disturbed by Drake and didn't actually get anywhere, he couldn't have possibly been faking his feelings, could he? Then she remembered how eager he was to take care of Drake. He had insisted that he deal with their son, and in doing so he escaped her.

Ginny shook her head to clear her thoughts. This was getting her nowhere. There had to be a reasonable explanation why he'd not kept his promise and she would simply ask him when he came home tonight. Angry with herself, she finished up in the bathroom quickly and stomped through to her dressing room, promising herself she wouldn't give his inattention another thought until she spoke to him.

After dressing for the day, Ginny purposefully walked to the playroom to collect the children. Breakfast on the patio while she watched the children play was exactly what she needed to take her mind off of things, especially her absent husband.

She paused in the doorway of the playroom. Drake was playing with his Quidditch stadium and Angel was fully involved in a tea party for her dolls.

"Who wants to go outside for a while?"

"Mummy!" Drake flew across the room as fast as his little feet could carry him and wrapped his arms around Ginny's legs. "You're up!"

"Yes, sweetheart."

"Millie said we shouldn't wake you."

"Did she now? Well I'll have a word with her later about that." Ginny gathered Angel to her side. "Did you both have enough breakfast?"

Angel nodded emphatically. "We had pancakes."

"I hope you didn't eat them all! Pancakes sound perfect for breakfast this morning."

Both children looked at their mother with decidedly guilty expressions.

"The house elves can make more," Drake offered.

"Yes, they can, sweetheart," Ginny replied, swallowing the laughter threatening to burst forth. "So are you coming outside? I thought I'd have breakfast on the patio while you two are playing."

Angel took off in the direction of the family parlor and the great outdoors with loud delighted squeals. Drake held firmly to Ginny's hand and walked with her. Once at the table, the little boy held his mother's chair for her, just like he'd seen his father do, and when she was comfortably seated, he summoned Millie.

"Millie!"

"Little Master Drake did want Millie?"

"My mummy wants pancakes for breakfast now."

The elderly servant glanced at Ginny, who nodded almost imperceptibly to confirm the order, before she Disapparated.

Ginny didn't have the heart to reprimand Drake for how he was speaking to Millie. After all he was doing an almost faultless impression of his father, and he was trying to look after her. She'd have a quiet word later, when he wasn't so intent on making sure she was catered for.

Drake hovered close to Ginny until Millie arrived back with her breakfast. The little boy seemed to be almost torn between going to play and clinging to his mother. Ginny wondered if he could sense her tension. She didn't think she was acting any differently around the twins, but Drake had always been perceptive to how she was feeling.

"Would you like some more pancakes, Drake?"

"No thank you, Mummy," Drake answered with perfect manners.

"Do you want to go play?"

Drake looked wistfully towards the lawn where his sister was racing around having fun. "It's all right, I'll stay with you."

"You can play, sweetheart. I'm just going to eat breakfast."

"You don't want me to sit with you?"

"If you really want to, but I know how much you like to play and I'd hate for you to miss out."

Drake thought for a moment. "All right, but if you need me I'll be right over there."

"Okay." Ginny smiled to herself. Her son's concern for her made her heart swell.

While Ginny leisurely ate her breakfast, Drake looked up often to see if she was all right and she'd wave happily at him, hoping it would placate his worried little mind. She pondered what they might do after she'd finished eating and decided very quickly on a walk by the lake to start with. It was a beautiful day, so she was going to try to enjoy it as much as she could.

* * *

Ginny wandered through the rose garden slowly, her thoughts drifting to Narcissa's mood the evening before. She'd left the children in Millie's care for the time being. They'd had a lovely walk, or run in the twins' case, by the lake after breakfast and had ended up having an impromptu picnic lunch under one of the large trees by the shore. The children were just about worn out after running around in the fresh air for several hours, so she'd prescribed some quiet play for them for a few hours.

It wasn't long before Ginny spied her mother-in-law sitting in the gazebo having afternoon tea. Narcissa seemed to be lost in thought, so she approached quietly and hoped she wouldn't startle her.

"Narcissa?"

"Ginevra, how lovely to see you."

Ginny sat down opposite her mother-in-law at the tiny table. "Are you feeling better?"

Narcissa's brow creased delicately. "I don't understand. I haven't been unwell."

"You were upset last night, and Draco thought that maybe someone had upset you."

Narcissa's eyes widened just perceivably before she looked away deliberately, casting her gaze into the gardens.

"I don't want to pry or anything," Ginny continued. "I just wanted to make sure you were all right."

"I'm fine," Narcissa responded in a clipped tone.

"Okay, but if you want to talk about it... I'm here," Ginny offered pleasantly.

Narcissa slowly turned back to face her daughter-in-law. She expected to see indifference in the younger woman's eyes, but was surprised when she saw genuine concern. It had been decades since Narcissa had had another woman to talk to openly about anything that might be on her mind. "Everything is fine," she insisted.

"If you say so." Ginny smiled warmly across the table as she poured herself a cup of tea. "I just find it helps when I talk about whatever is bothering me."

"Whom do you usually talk to?"

"My mum, Hermione or Pansy... sometimes all three."

Narcissa's eyes drifted back to look out over the gardens again. "I used to talk to my sister," she whispered.

Ginny silently watched the older woman. She had the feeling that Narcissa wanted to open up to her, but at the same time she didn't want to push her too much lest she clammed up altogether.

"It was a long time ago." Narcissa sighed heavily. "Before she went away."

Unsure as to which of her sisters Narcissa was speaking about, Ginny pondered whether or not she should ask. The specific mention of either could upset Narcissa even further or perhaps make the situation worse.

"She used to help me plot the most heinous of retributions." Narcissa laughed coldly at the memory. "Of course, I rarely followed through on the plans, but I suspect Bella always convinced the person who had dared to upset me not to do it again."

"It must have been nice to have an older sister to protect you like that," Ginny commented wistfully.

Narcissa turned to look at Ginny again. "You are very lucky, you have six older brothers."

"Brothers don't always understand the need for subtly or that I don't need protecting all the time."

"Bella wasn't terribly subtle either, but her methods were effective."

"I can imagine," Ginny uttered before she could stop herself. She cringed mentally when Narcissa's eyes opened just a little wider and hoped that she hadn't alienated the other woman with such a careless comment.

"You've come across Bella before?"

"Yes, before the end of the war."

Narcissa nodded thoughtfully. "She was a merciless warrior."

Ginny bit her tongue to keep her from saying anything derogatory about Bellatrix Lestrange. A lot of things were coming to mind, and not one of them could be considered nice or even constructive in this situation.

"I'm not a fool, Ginevra; I know you don't see her as being anything but brutal, and perhaps even a little insane." Narcissa paused for a moment to take in the surprised look on her daughter-in-law's face. "I know her differently. She's my sister, and I have not only seen her softer side, I've experienced her love. Did you know that she's fiercely protective of her family?"

"No," Ginny muttered.

"Of course not, because you don't see her as caring about anything or anyone."

"My opinion of her doesn't reflect upon you," Ginny said quickly.

"If it did, I doubt very much you would be sitting here now."

"No, I guess not."

Narcissa smiled knowingly. She'd been through this many times. Her sister's past actions haunted her on a daily basis. "Enough about Bellatrix."

"All right." Ginny weighed up her next move carefully before asking, "What about yesterday? Who upset you?"

"It was nothing."

"It must have been something... you were very upset."

"Just a stray comment from a narrow-minded foolish woman who isn't worth my time."

"What did she say?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"I don't really, it's just you might feel better if you spoke about it." Ginny hid the impatience in her tone beautifully. Narcissa was not an easy woman to get to open up. "If you really don't want to talk about it that's fine, I just thought it would help."

Narcissa's gazed wander back out over the gardens.

Ginny moved her chair back from the table and made to leave. "I might—"

"It was Mrs. Nott," Narcissa said abruptly, cutting Ginny off.

"What did she say?" Ginny enquired as she sat back down.

"She'd Owled me, inviting me to a luncheon at the last minute yesterday. Of course I couldn't go, because I had the children."

"Was she upset you couldn't go?"

"More than likely not, but she did make some rather nasty comments when I Flooed her to advise her that I couldn't attend."

"Oh?"

Narcissa sniffed affectedly. "She compared me to a house elf."

Ginny's eyes widened in surprise. She had expected some snide subtle remark to have been made by the other woman, but this was far from subtle and it was down right vicious. "I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault." Narcissa sniffed again and pressed her hand to her mouth.

_'Oh god, she's going to cry,'_ Ginny's mind screamed. It hadn't occurred to her that Narcissa might spill a tear over this. She silently withdrew her wand and summoned a handkerchief.

"Thank you," Narcissa murmured, accepting the silk handkerchief and dabbing at her eyes.

Ginny waited patiently while Narcissa brought herself under control. She certainly didn't want to say anything that might upset her further or make her cry even more, so she stayed silent for the time being.

"I'm not usually so emotional," Narcissa explained unevenly. "Most especially when it involves foolish comments from vindictive women."

"You have every right to be upset," Ginny assured her. Even though she was new to the whole aristocratic lifestyle, she was certain there could be no worse an insult than to be compared to a servant.

"I should know better than to allow someone like her to affect me so deeply."

"Why would she say something so cruel?"

"She was indirectly implying that a nanny should be caring for the twins."

"Do you agree?"

"There are times when the services of a competent nanny are useful, but that doesn't mean I don't enjoy spending time with the children; quite the contrary in fact. I adore being with them."

"Did none of these women raise their own children?"

Narcissa looked pensive for a moment. "No, I don't think so. Everyone had nannies."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Ginny muttered.

"It's our world, Ginevra. We have a lot of social obligations, but at the same time, we have to cater for our children's well being, so a live-in nanny is what most choose to provide the children with some stability."

"I disagree. Stability in their lives should come from their family, most especially their parents."

"I don't dispute that, but it is important that the stability continue when family are not around. This is where a nanny becomes necessary. Whenever you're not available, for whatever reason, it will always be the same person caring for the children."

"I'm sorry Mrs. Nott was horrid to you over my decision not to have a nanny, but I won't be changing my mind. I don't want the children raised by a stranger."

"I didn't believe it would change your mind. You're very strong willed, Ginevra, and that is a good thing."

Ginny smiled across the small table. She didn't know if the compliment was genuine or not, but it didn't really matter anyway. She wasn't going to change her mind about whom the care of her children would be entrusted to when she was unable to be with them. "What are you going to do about Mrs. Nott?"

"I have a few options available."

The smile on Narcissa's face could only be described as coldly sadistic. Ginny hoped she never looked at her that way, because whatever Mrs. Nott had coming to her she was sure it wasn't going to be pleasant.

"The most important thing is timing," Narcissa continued.

"You have a plan then?"

"A loose strategy."

A large black owl flew down and landed on the table between the women, distracting them from their conversation. When it offered its leg to Ginny, she deftly untied the message it carried.

"Is it from Draco?" Narcissa asked.

"Umm... Yes," Ginny replied, absently wondering how Narcissa knew.

"I thought so. They have a flock of those owls at the office. They're all the same color, and they're all massively ugly beasts."

"Oh," Ginny murmured as she scanned the message from her husband.

_Gin,_

_I've secured Tuesday and Thursday afternoons away from the office next week, so we'll conduct the second interviews on those days at home. My secretary has sent owls notifying the applicants when they are expected at the house, and I've arranged a lunch meeting with Mr. Maddock tomorrow to discuss Miss Sheehan's suitability. See you tonight._

_Draco_

"Is everything all right?"

Ginny's eyes ran over her husband's perfect script again and tried not to show her disappointment. "Yes, Draco's made time to see the tutors next week over two afternoons."

"You don't seem pleased."

"It's fine."

"If it's not convenient then you should tell him straight away, so it can be changed."

"It's not a problem. It was my idea to spread the interviews over two afternoons," Ginny said.

"Then something else is wrong," Narcissa stated perceptively.

"No." Ginny tried to smile brilliantly, but even she could feel the falseness in the effort. She sighed heavily and cast her eyes down. "Yes."

"Tell me. Perhaps I can help you fix the problem."

"It's silly really."

"If you're not happy then it's certainly a problem. Now what is this about?"

"I'll sort it out."

"What was it you were telling me about talking about what was bothering me?"

Ginny looked at the smug witch sitting across from her. Her own tactics were being turned around to attack her. "Draco promised he wouldn't work too late last night and... Well I don't remember him coming to bed, then when I woke up this morning, he was already gone for the day, and this note is so impersonal."

"That is a real problem," Narcissa exclaimed. "You're feeling neglected."

"I wouldn't say that. It's just that he always has to be working, even when he takes the afternoon off, he's back at it later that night. We don't seem to be able to string together twenty-four hours in each other's company."

Narcissa nodded understandingly. "Lucius mentioned that they are very busy at the moment, but that is no excuse for neglecting his family."

"Will it stop soon?"

"Draco is like Lucius. Unless you remind him of where home is he'll forget."

"I don't want to turn into some nagging wife who doesn't know how to entertain herself when her husband is working."

"You don't have to, but he must be reminded of what he is missing out on. There are not only your feelings to consider, the children must be missing his presence as well."

"They are," Ginny admitted.

"Well, something must be done to alert him to your feelings."

Ginny didn't like the dangerous twinkle in Narcissa's eyes. She didn't want to think about what Narcissa might say to him, if she got the opportunity. "I'll think of something."

"Sometimes a more _corporeal_ approach is required to gain their attention," Narcissa advised slyly.

Even though Ginny nodded and smiled at Narcissa, she didn't want to think about what the older witch could be implying with such a comment.

"Just let me know when you want me to watch the children."

"I will," Ginny muttered without conviction.

"More tea?" Narcissa offered cheerfully.

"Yes, please," Ginny answered vaguely. She was trying mightily to push the embarrassing images Narcissa's comments had evoked from her mind.

Ginny excused herself after drinking her tea, citing the children as reason to leave. It wasn't often she felt uncomfortable around her mother-in-law now, but the implication of the conversation hadn't sat well with her. Given that Narcissa liked to pretend that her son didn't engage in such activities, it was quite bizarre that the woman be suggesting what Ginny thought she was proposing. Then again, perhaps she was reading far too much into Narcissa's words; her frustration could be twisting things around to mean what she wanted them to mean or rather what she needed them to mean.

* * *

It was becoming increasingly difficult for Ginny to differentiate between the days. They all seemed to be blurring together into one long, lonely existence despite her best efforts to keep busy.

Draco had worked extremely late on Tuesday evening and had again left the house early on Wednesday. Even though Ginny didn't actually see him, she knew he had been home for a few hours at least, because his side of their bed was rumpled.

On Wednesday afternoon she had taken afternoon tea with Narcissa again, but this time she brought the children with her to keep the conversation on a safe level. It was a pleasant afternoon, though Drake might disagree after his grandmother spent much of her time correcting his table manners. Angel was the picture of a perfectly brought up little princess. She mimicked everything Narcissa did and more, receiving praise for her conduct from the society witch. Rather than eat alone again, Ginny asked Narcissa to join them for dinner. She knew Lucius had been working late, though not as late as Draco, so there was no point in the women eating separately.

Thursday she spent a great deal of time with the household books. Narcissa had taken Angel shopping, so she allowed Drake to bring some of his toys up to her private parlor while she worked. Late in the afternoon an owl arrived from Draco, stating that he'd be late again. Ginny sighed heavily and tried not to feel despondent as she returned to her household books. This evening would be the third consecutive night Draco hadn't made it home for dinner.

Ginny told herself sternly that there was no point in dwelling on her disappointment. She couldn't let Draco's absence affect the children or the way she dealt with them. For now, she would carry on as if nothing was amiss, even though she felt as though her heart was breaking.

* * *

Draco let himself into the master bedchamber as quietly as he could. He didn't want to disturb Ginny if he could help it. With his shoes in one hand, he tiptoed across the room in the direction of his dressing room.

"You're late."

Draco dropped his shoes and spun to face the direction the sound had come from, illuminating his wand as he did. "_Lumos._ Ginny, you're still awake!"

"So are you."

"Bad day at the office I'm afraid."

"Day, night, there doesn't seem to be any difference at the moment."

Draco bit back the angry retort boiling on his tongue. He didn't have the energy to get into an argument with her right now, and he knew without doubt that she'd bite hard if he provoked her. "Love, I don't have a choice at the moment. You know I'd rather be home with you and the twins."

"How long is it since you've seen them?"

"Let's not go there, okay? It's killing me being away from you all the time."

"Fine," Ginny responded in a clipped tone.

"I'll just have a quick shower," Draco muttered, entering his dressing room. He decided it was probably better for his health if he ignored her tone.

Draco undressed quickly and threw his robe over his shoulder. When he crossed the bedchamber again, Ginny was sitting up in bed, reading a book. He groaned mentally. It meant that she would want to talk when he got to bed, and he really didn't have the energy to stay awake tonight. Draco could only hope a shower would wake him up a bit, so he could at least pay attention when she was speaking.

After a quick shower, so as not to be awake longer than necessary, Draco prepared for bed. With a few droplets of water still glistening on his chest, he left the bathroom and headed directly for the comfort of his pillow. The hot shower had done little for his exhaustion, except perhaps make him feel warm and ready to curl up in a ball. He slipped between the covers as Ginny marked her page and placed her book on the nightstand beside her. Draco braced himself for whatever it was she had to tell him.

"You do remember we're having dinner at Harry and Hermione's on Saturday, don't you?"

"Yes, dear, I've blocked the evening off in my diary, so I can't work," Draco responded, swallowing a yawn. He was warm and starting to relax into the mattress. His pillow felt divinely soft as it cradled his overworked head. Now he just had to get through what his wife wanted and he could go to sleep.

"Good, the twins are looking forward to it and it would be a shame to cancel."

"We won't have to cancel."

"I've missed you," Ginny whispered.

"I've—" Draco's eyes shot open as he felt Ginny's hand wander down to his satin boxers. He cleared his throat and tried again. "I've missed you too, love."

"How much have you missed me?"

"More than you know," he mumbled as he pulled her gently onto his chest. He hoped it would unseat her hand, but disappointingly it gave her easier access to his groin.

Ginny sighed happily as her fingers traced the outline of his flaccid manhood. "This is nice. Just you and me cuddling together."

"Mmm..." Draco was struggling to keep his eyes open. Even her purposeful ministrations around his boxers weren't helping to push away the desire to sleep.

"Draco?"

"Mmm?"

"You aren't going to sleep on me, are you?"

"No, love," Draco uttered sleepily.

"Good," Ginny replied nefariously.

He could feel her massaging through the satin. The sensation was quite pleasant, but it wasn't doing anything to arouse him. Sleep was claiming him faster than he could fight and before long he drifted off.

"Draco?"

Her husband's deep, even breathing filled the bedchamber. Ginny lifted her head from his chest and looked at his face. Sure enough his eyes were closed and he was most definitely asleep. The urge to shove him was tempting, so very tempting, but she did refrain. However, a loud huff of frustration did escape as she moved over to her side of the bed. After fluffing her pillows up vigorously, Ginny picked up her book again and tried to read. Was it really too much to ask for some attention from her husband?

Sometime in the wee hours of the morning Ginny finally fell asleep with her book still resting on her lap. She hadn't so much as turned a page since she'd picked it up. Her mind had been consumed with why Draco seemed to be ignoring her. He'd been so attentive before she moved into the manor, but she'd noticed his consideration waning ever since. Unbidden thoughts of the worst kind plagued her dreams as her subconscious took over trying to puzzle out her husband's behavior.

* * *

It was with no surprise that Ginny awoke on Friday morning alone and feeling somewhat stiff from the position she'd fell asleep sometime in the early hours of the morning. She was disgruntled, and more than a little frustrated. It wasn't that she didn't understand how hard Draco was working at the moment, and that the long hours were taking their toll on him, but if she didn't get some meaningful attention soon she was going to explode.

The day progressed slowly for her, and too often she found herself daydreaming about spending time alone with her missing husband. There had to be some way to keep him awake, so she could have her wicked way with him or at least long enough for her to take the edge off of her frustration.

As the hours ticked away, a plan began to formulate in her head. The moment he got home, she'd drag him up to their chambers and then they could sit down to a pleasant meal or he could sleep if he needed to. It was perfect. Narcissa wouldn't mind keeping an eye on the twins for a few hours, and if she wasn't available there was always Millie, who was proving to be very competent in childcare.

With a workable strategy now in her mind, and the children off shopping with Narcissa, Ginny decided to spend the afternoon getting ready for her husband's return from the office. A long soak in a bubble bath with a good book was first on her list. She had just relaxed in the water when a Malfoy Holdings' Owl perched itself on the edge of the tub. Excitement bubbled inside of her as she reached for the note attached to the bird's leg. She hoped it was Draco telling her he'd be home early.

_Gin,_

_Have a business dinner tonight. Don't wait up; it'll probably be a late one._

_Draco_

Her heart sunk as she screwed up the parchment in her hand. She felt like screaming at the injustice of being left alone so often. It wasn't fair. Most newlyweds couldn't get enough of each other, and here she was feeling abandoned. They were still considered newlyweds, weren't they?

Self-doubt began to creep into her veins again, and all the resolve she'd found only that morning evaporated. Perhaps she had some sort of fairy tale view of how married life should be? What if this was what it was really like - alone all the time with only the children and servants for company, day in day out?

A single tear escaped from under her lids.

Ginny sat upright suddenly, causing water to slosh out of the tub and onto the marble floor. This wallowing in self-pity wasn't doing her any good, and she wasn't about to let herself slide down into its dark depths. Draco was working to provide for them. She ignored the small voice at the back of her mind that was screaming about the fact that he didn't have to work to provide for them. He loved her deeply, of that she was positive, and he was not having an affair.

An affair? Now that was a new thought. Maybe he was having an affair? Perhaps the other woman was his secretary. Ginny shook her head vigorously to clear the horrid image that had appeared there. His secretary was old enough to be his mother and looked old enough to be his grandmother. Draco didn't go for that type of woman anyhow. If he was going to have an affair it would be with a woman similar to those he used to date before they were married: impossibly beautiful and incredibly shallow. Did he miss those women? Had he returned to that life of debauchery?

She scolded herself harshly. There was absolutely no evidence that her husband was doing anything more than working some extraordinary hours at the moment. His level of exhaustion last night was proof of that at least. _Unless he'd worn himself out in other way,_ her mind whispered. With an angry growl at herself, Ginny snatched up her book from the side of the bath. Determined to distract herself, she ripped open the trashy romance novel that had caused her very proper mother-in-law to raise her eyebrows questioningly when she spied the cover. _I will not think about it again,_ she thought resolutely.

* * *

Draco Apparated into foyer of his home. It had been a long night full of far more Firewhisky than he should have had to consume to get a handshake from the man he'd been trying to persuade into doing business with him. Still at least he'd made it home without Splinching himself. Now all he had to do was negotiate the staircase, something that would be far easier if it would stop moving, and fall into bed.

After making several grabs at the handrail, Draco finally found purchase and began to pull himself up the stairs. He was quite impressed with himself when he reached the first floor landing, having only miss-stepped a few times, and been brought to his knees twice. Once over praising himself, Draco deliberately turned in the direction he had to walk, pointed his course out to himself with an upraised arm and staggered off down the corridor.

The journey down the long corridor was punctuated with several collisions with the walls and a few objects d'art, which he somehow caught before they could hit the floor. When he reached his bedchamber doors, Draco reached forward and turned the knob; unfortunately, he was leaning on the door at the time and went sprawling into the room with an undignified yelp. All his strength seemed to have vanished, so he stayed where he was for the time being. Through his blurry vision, he sensed there was something different about the sitting room, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it at this juncture. Perhaps if remembered in the morning, he'd ask Ginny if she'd changed anything.

"Draco?"

"Father!"

"What are you doing in there?"

"I fell over." Draco laughed loudly at his own folly.

"And just where were you headed when you fell over?"

"Bed!"

"Is that a fact?" Lucius regarded his obviously drunk son for a moment or two before pointing out what he felt was apparent. "You do realize this is no longer your bedchamber, don't you?"

The befuddled look on Draco's face conveyed his confusion without any words needing to be slurred.

"Draco, you're in the northern wing — my wing. You live in the southern wing."

"Bloody buggering hell," Draco cursed half-heartedly. "Now I've got to walk all the way back."

"I think I'll escort you... just to make certain you make it without waking our ancestors," Lucius stated sardonically.

"No need! I can do it!" Draco rolled onto his front and attempted to raise himself off the ground, only to slump to the floor after a few seconds of supporting his weight on his hands.

"Perhaps when you're sober enough," Lucius muttered under his breath.

"Lucius, is everything all right?"

"Yes, Narcissa, it's just Draco."

"What is he doing here?"

"I rather think he lost his way."

"Lost his way?"

"He's quite inebriated, dearest. Just go back to bed. I'll make sure he gets to his own wing."

"Oh dear," Narcissa exclaimed as she peered over her husbands shoulder. "This is not going to help matters."

Draco looked up at Narcissa with a goofy grin on his face. "Hello, Mother!"

"Oh, Draco, how could you?"

"What?"

"Look at your condition!"

"I've just had a couple of drinks."

"A couple too many!" Narcissa pinned him with a disgusted look. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself."

"Narcissa, I think you'd be better to save your tirade until the morning, when he'll remember what you've said," Lucius interrupted. He simply wanted to deliver his son to his own wing and climb back into his own comfortable bed before the sun rose. "Go back to bed and I'll be there soon."

"Very well," Narcissa snapped, turning on her heel and stalking angrily away from the men.

Lucius waited until his wife had disappeared from sight, before turning his attention back to his intoxicated son. "Come along, Draco."

Despite Draco's loud declarations that he could get up under his own steam, Lucius helped him to his feet. It was a struggle, and at one stage both men almost tumbled to the floor, but they made it in the end. Even though they were quite a distance from slumbering family members Lucius continually reminded Draco to keep his voice down. Draco had taken it upon himself to recount the entire evening to his father while they made way to the southern wing.

"Here you are," Lucius announced quietly when they reached Draco's suite doors. "I suggest you take your shoes off before entering the bedchamber."

"I'll do that," Draco proclaimed, sliding down the wall and trying to yank his shoes from his feet without bothering to untie the laces.

Lucius rolled his eyes at his son and hoped Ginevra was a sound sleeper or at least in a forgiving mood. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Nighty night, Father."

"Just go to bed, Draco," Lucius muttered intolerantly as he turned away. The urge to berate him for coming home in that condition was burning the tip of his tongue, but he refrained. There was no point expending the energy when Ginevra would more than likely give him a tongue-lashing he won't so readily forget.

With the help of the doorframe, Draco hauled himself to his feet again and opened the door to the sitting room. After closing it behind him, he tiptoed across the room and let himself into the bedchamber. His effort to sneak in silently was thwarted when he staggered while he was trying to close the door and it slammed shut. "Fuck," he cursed in a half whisper.

* * *

Even though she'd subtly checked with Lucius about Draco's business dinner, Ginny had tossed and turned all night, unable to get comfortable and fall asleep. It was getting more and more difficult to do when he was absent from the house, especially when her mind wandered off in directions it was better avoiding. She reassured herself that although it was late — very late — Draco was doing what he had to do to secure this wizard's business, and she tried not to think about what that might involve.

A disturbance in the corridor alerted her to the presence of someone. She sat up in the darkness and waited, listening carefully. It wasn't long before she recognized Lucius' voice, and she presumed the other had to be Draco—a very drunk Draco by the sounds.

She kept her silence as he opened the door, slammed it shut, cursed and then told himself to hush. He was beyond drunk; he was practically legless. As he rounded the bed, Ginny opened her mouth to say something, but snapped it shut again when she felt him kick the solid wooden leg.

"Fuck!" Draco reached down to nurse his injured toes, only to overbalance and fall onto the bed. "Bloody hell."

"Nice to know you remember where you live," Ginny said coldly.

"Gin, you're awake!"

"Yes. I'm surprised anyone can sleep through the racket you're making."

"Sorry, love. I had to have a few with this bloke."

"Really?"

"Yeah, but it worked! I got the business."

"Good for you," Ginny muttered derisively.

Draco grinned lopsidedly at his wife, in what he thought was a charming manner, and crawled up the bed towards her. "Are you angry with me?"

"Oh for goodness sakes, Draco," Ginny said, waving her hand in front of her face to rid herself of the putrid odor of stale alcohol that he was breathing over her.

"What?" Draco slurred innocently.

"Go away," Ginny ground out. "You smell awful."

"But, love—"

"Draco!"

The warning in her voice would have been clear to anyone in the general vicinity, but Draco was oblivious to the danger he was in and kept advancing on his wife.

With her stomach now beginning to roll from the vile stench of her husband's breath, Ginny placed her hands on his chest and pushed him sideways. She fully expected him to roll onto his back away from her, but Draco did not possess the power to stop himself, and he rolled off the bed, landing hard on the floor.

"Oh God! Draco, are you all right?" Ginny leaned over the side of the bed and peered worriedly at her husband.

"Yeah... yeah. How did I get down here?"

Ginny rolled her eyes and groaned loudly. He was far worse than even she had suspected. "Can you get up?"

"Yep, on my way!"

Ginny watched her husband struggle to lift his body off the floor. If she weren't so angry with him at the moment, she would have found his efforts highly amusing.

Before any of that simmering amusement could surface, Ginny huffed angrily at him and sat back. "I'm going to sleep. Don't wake me when you eventually get up here."

"Gin?"

"What, Draco?"

"I think I need some help."

"I can't lift you, so you'll have to work it out for yourself." Ginny sank back onto her pillows with a smug smile tugging at her lips. She listened as Draco tried for a few more minutes before he seemingly gave up and slumped onto the floor with a muffled curse.

A few minutes later a large hand appeared on the bed and began feeling around purposefully. Ginny watched his efforts with barely concealed amusement. She could almost see the excitement in his movements when he obviously thought he'd found what he was looking for.

Draco's hand closed around a large portion of their comforter and he tried to pull it off the bed. As soon as the blanket began to move Ginny gave it a hard tug back towards her and slapped his hand.

"The floor's hard... want my pillow," Draco slurred.

"Well you're not stealing my comforter," Ginny snapped.

From her position, she could hear Draco muttering to himself about bloody women and soft comfy beds, as his hand continued its blind search. In danger of laughing aloud, she turned her face into her pillow. There were a few more attempts at usurping the comforter before Draco's hand finally fell on his own pillow. The triumphant grunt that rose from the floor had Ginny in a fit of silent giggles.

Not long after, following several loud grunts and groans in his attempt to get comfortable, Draco started snoring. Ginny sighed with irritation and tried to block out the god-awful noise. A task that seemed impossible, given the way the windowpanes appeared to be rattling each time her husband drew breath. Again she was left tossing and turning in the early hours of the morning, trying to get comfortable and relax enough to fall asleep.

* * *

"Daddy! Daddy!"

Draco groaned weakly and rolled over, pulling his pillow over his head. The high pitch squeals of his daughter were creating havoc in his thumping brain and making him feel a little more than nauseous.

"Daddy, why are you down there?"

Not having the energy to engage in a conversation, Draco pretended he was sleeping. He prayed to the deities that she'd just wander away and allow him to pull himself together in his own time.

"Daddy!"

The bolt of pain that shot through his body as his daughter shoved his shoulder was all consuming. Draco had to bite his lip to keep from screaming out. It seemed that every fiber of his being had been tortured mercilessly sometime between him falling asleep and this rude awakening.

"Daddy!"

Before she could touch him again, Draco pulled the pillow off of his head. "Enough, Angel."

"There you are! Are you getting up now?" Angel exclaimed loudly, not paying attention to the fact that her father had just growled at her.

"Where's Mummy?"

"Downstairs."

"Why don't you go down and see her?"

"She told me to come up and see you."

Draco groaned out loud. Given that she'd already begun to torture him, he had a feeling he wasn't going to be terribly welcome in his wife's company today. Not that he could remember exactly what had happened the night before, or rather early this morning, but waking up on the floor was not a good sign.

"Are you getting up now, Daddy?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming." Draco lifted himself a small way off the floor and immediately regretted the making the effort as his stomach lurched in protest. He tried to take a deep breath, but a distasteful belch that seemed to have come all the way from his toes forced the fresh oxygen he so desperately craved out. Acid filled the back of his throat. It burned painfully and he paled noticeably.

Angel bent over and stared her ill father in the eye. "Daddy, are you all right? You look funny."

"Fine," Draco grunted, trying not to open his mouth too far lest he lose the contents of his stomach, whatever they might have been.

Angel frowned and tilted her head slightly, as if to improve the view of her father's face. The little strawberry blonde witch shook her head thoughtfully. "You look really sick."

"I'm fine, sweetheart. Just a little tired." Draco tried to smile, but it turned into a painful grimace as he forced himself to sit up. He had to get Angel to leave now, before he lost his battle with his rebellious stomach. "Angel, why don't you go and see what Mummy's doing?"

"She's drinking tea with Grandmother."

"Angel, sweetheart, I need a few minutes to myself." Draco prayed to whoever might be listening that his precocious little girl would head for the door. Each time he opened his mouth, he was one step closer to purging his system and he definitely didn't want to do that in front of her. Plus there was the issue of making it to the bathroom on time.

"Why?"

"I need—" Draco swallowed the bile that rose in his throat. "—to use the bathroom."

"That's okay." Angel sat herself on the edge of the bed. "I can wait."

"Angel, just—" Draco clamped his mouth shut as his stomach lurched violently. Whether his daughter was here or not, he was going to have to make a dash for the lavatory and pray that he made it there on time.

"Daddy, are you sick?"

Draco was already scrambling towards the bathroom on his hands and knees. If he had the presence of mind to get to his feet properly, he could have expedited his journey, but he wasn't thinking clearly. When he reached the doorway to Ginny's side of the bathroom, he felt like cheering and probably would have if he dared open his mouth. He hauled himself to his feet using the doorframe and leaned against it breathing hard. There were only a few more meters to cover and he'd be safe.

"Daddy?"

Draco jumped at the demanding little voice right behind him. He had no idea his daughter had followed him across the room. "Angel, just—"

"Daddy?"

He clamped his hand across his mouth and lurched for the toilet, but it was too far away. Angel's exclamation of disgust followed by the sound of her feet beating a hasty retreat mingled with the sound of his stomach contents splattering on the black marble floor. The notion that he'd have to make amends later vaguely drifted through his mind as he retched onto the floor. He was stuck where he was a few feet inside the bathroom, momentarily paralyzed with the force his body was purging itself with. At some stage he slithered back to the floor, and simply waited for his body to finish eradicating the stale alcohol from the evening before.

Draco had no idea just how long he'd been slumped on the floor when he heard voices coming closer. He groaned aloud when his mother's concerned voice could be heard above all else. She did not need to see him in this condition, and if he were capable, he'd have done something to change his circumstances, but as it were he was completely unable to even think of what to do let alone act upon an idea.

"Draco! Oh my goodness! What is wrong with you?"

With foolish abandon, Draco glanced up at the doorway. His mother was staring at him with concern in her blue eyes, but her face was a mask of disgust. Ginny, on the other hand, was peering over Narcissa's shoulder at the mess her side of the bathroom was with complete and utter repugnance. He knew he deserved the look she was giving him and a lot more, of which he was certain she would delight in serving him, but he hoped that she would at least wait until he could defend himself.

"Are you ill?" Narcissa pressed on in a concerned tone. "I'll summon a servant to have this mess cleaned up immediately."

"He's not ill, Narcissa," Ginny responded coolly. "He's hung-over."

"Of course, he did come home very inebriated last night."

"I know."

"Oh dear, did he wake you?"

"I'm surprised he didn't wake the children with all the noise he was making."

"Draco! You should be thoroughly ashamed of yourself!"

If he'd had the energy, Draco would have rolled his eyes, so it was probably a good thing that it would have taken far more effort than he could consider making at this stage, since it would have caused him more trouble than he could handle right now. His mother had a habit of stating the obvious, though perhaps not always accurately. He felt sorry for himself, not ashamed.

Rather than continue receiving malevolent looks from the doorway, Draco cast his gaze elsewhere. Both women continued to discuss how terrible he was between themselves as if he weren't sitting on the floor, in a disgusting puddle of god knows what, right in front of them. Without warning, he heard their footsteps begin to retreat. A glance at the doorway confirmed that he was alone again. It was then that it dawned upon him that his mother hadn't summoned a servant. He was alone with no assistance and no one was on the way to help either.

Draco drew a careful breath in and willed himself not to vomit. He had a feeling Millie would be busy with the twins and wouldn't come if he summoned her, so he quickly summoned his father's personal house elf. The stench of the bathroom was starting to get to him and needless to say it was doing nothing to help his volatile stomach.

"Master did summon Ippy?"

"Clean up," Draco muttered.

"As Master wishes."

Within seconds the bathroom was clean again, and Draco dismissed the servant rudely. He did not need more witnesses to his dilemma than necessary and could only imagine the gossip that would be flying between the house elves once Ippy reported the condition their Master was in this morning.

Though all evidence of his unsettled stomach had been eliminated, Draco could still smell a pungent odor. He had to do something about it before his body decided to rebel again. A shower was the first thing he needed, but just the thought of standing up sent fear through his body. He was certain he wouldn't be able to support his own weight. Still on the floor, Draco stripped off as best he could and crawled into his wife's shower stall.

When the water hit his face it was almost a cause for celebration, or would have been had he possessed the strength. As it was, Draco sat on the tiles, slumped against the wall and let the water flow over him. In time, he stood himself up slowly and allowed the heat to ease his aching muscles. Before he left the privacy of the stall, he swore abstinence to the tiles. There was no way he was going to put himself in this position again, if he could help it. The short journey between the bathroom and his dressing room seemed to take forever, and when he finally arrived he had to sit down to gather himself. The towel, he'd slung around his hips slid to the floor as he dropped onto the stool. He glanced at it disinterestedly and decided it could stay where it was for the time being. His entire body was shaking so severely that he couldn't have picked it up if he wanted to. He'd just sit a while; wait for his body to calm down, and then he'd dress for the day and go down to face his wife.

* * *

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Draco!"

Startled, Draco jumped at the sudden noise. He looked around in a panic. It didn't take him long to ascertain that he was in his dressing room, stark naked, and Ginny was standing over him looking none too happy. He closed his eyes for a moment to collect his thoughts. He must have nodded off when he sat down; it was the only explanation. Upon cracking his eyelids open again, he saw that his wife hadn't moved and she still looked furious. This was not going to be a very comfortable day.

"I came up here to check on you, because I was worried when you didn't come down for so long," Ginny hissed in a low voice.

Draco swallowed hard and straightened himself up on the stool. He knew without being told that no matter what excuse he might have, it wouldn't appease her.

"Are you coming downstairs?" Ginny looked at him pointedly. "Your children would like to see you at some point."

"Yes, I'll just get dressed and I'll come down."

"Good." Ginny turned to leave, giving him one last scathing glance.

"Gin, could you order me some breakfast? I think I should _try_ to eat something."

"Fine," Ginny answered over her shoulder.

Draco cradled his head in his hands and wondered briefly if he had clandestine suicidal tendencies. It was the only way he could possibly explain his foolishness. He glanced up at his wardrobe and tried to will his clothes to leap out and onto his body, saving him the effort of rising from his position. Needless to say, after five minutes, all his effort produced was an increase in the throbbing inside his head.

Unable to delay the inevitable any longer, Draco rose unsteadily and got dressed for the day. His stomach was still cramping uncomfortably when he started his journey downstairs and he hoped that some breakfast might help rather than hinder his recovery. Even before he reached the family parlor, he could hear his family and seriously considered casting a temporary deafening charm on himself, but thought the better of it. He was in enough trouble with Ginny without appearing to be ignoring her.

"Daddy!"

Draco tried mightily not to cringe as the sound of his beloved children's voices pierced his brain excruciatingly.

A small smile played around Ginny's lips as she watched her husband. "Your breakfast is here, Draco."

"Are you feeling better, Daddy?" Angel asked.

"Angel said you were sick _everywhere_," Drake said incredulously.

"I feel a bit better, kids. Why don't you go and play?" Draco responded tightly as he sat down.

Ginny placed a plate with a domed silver cover in front of him. "I hope the warming charm has held."

"It'll be fine," Draco muttered as he lifted the cover. His eyes almost left their sockets and his stomach rolled violently when he saw the food Ginny had ordered him. "What is this?"

"Breakfast."

"Ginny, I can't—"

"It's the best thing for you, considering your condition."

"But—"

"Eat, you'll feel better."

Draco could have sworn the smile on his wife's face had a hint of the devil in it. He poked at the greasy bacon, sausages and eggs with his fork. If he got through any of this, it would be a miracle. However, he was going to try just to spite Ginny and he was determined to hold it all down.

A few mouthfuls into the large plate of grease Ginny had served him, Draco thought the better of continuing to punish himself and laid his cutlery on the plate. It really wasn't worth making himself sick again just to prove a point to her.

"Eat up, Draco."

"I've had enough."

"You need to put food in so you'll feel better."

"Not that sort of food."

"Don't be silly. It's a good old-fashioned breakfast."

Draco pushed the plate away expressively. "I'll have something else later."

Ginny shook her head at him. At least he'd had a couple of mouthfuls, but not nearly enough to replace the energy he'd expended this morning.

"Draco?"

"Father," Draco responded with a sigh. If his father were here, then his mother wouldn't be far away.

"You said last night that you'd secured the contract."

"I did. He played hard to get to start with, but I wore him down."

"Where is the paperwork?"

"I sent it back to the office immediately."

"You're sure?"

"Yes, I did that before the evening grew a little hazy."

"Hazy?" Ginny looked at her husband skeptically.

Draco wasn't foolish enough to refute her indirect suggestion that hazy was an understatement, and he had the good sense to look sheepish.

"Well, don't you think you ought to finalize the contract?" Lucius suggested.

The pleading look he sent his father was ignored with an amused smirk. Lucius had to know just how much trouble he was in with the women in the family, and yet he seemed to be trying to make the situation worse. Draco knew he would have to make a trip to the office today, and he didn't have to be told Ginny wouldn't be happy about it, but there was nothing he could do unless his father was willing to finalize the contract. "I was thinking you might want to put the finishing touches on the paperwork."

"Not likely. I have plans with your mother today."

"It wouldn't take long," Draco insisted.

"If it won't take long then you should get it done, so you can spend the rest of the day with Ginevra and the children."

Ginny had listened intently to the conversation. Her ire growing as she realized Draco would be running off to the office again. "You're going to the office?"

"It seems I have no choice."

"You could do whatever it is on Monday."

"I can't. The contracts need to be finalized and signed today, Ginny," Draco said with a slightly pleading tone. He knew she was angry and had every right to be, but he didn't have the strength to deal with her temper right now.

"Why?"

If he'd had the energy, he would have smirked as he witnessed his father beating a hasty retreat. "It's the way we do business. We've always done it this way. The contracts need to be signed within twenty-four hours of reaching agreement."

"I don't believe this. It's _Saturday_ for Merlin's sake! Is it too much to ask that you spend an hour with your family?"

"Ginny, I will be back in an hour or so and we can spend the rest of the day together. It really won't take long. All I have to do is amend the contracts to the terms we agreed upon and owl them over to the other side. Once they're signed and delivered back to the office I can come home. They'd be waiting for the contracts, so I really don't have a choice in the matter."

"Fine," Ginny snapped.

"Look, why don't you come with me? Keep me company while I'm waiting for them to return the paperwork?"

"What about the twins?"

"Millie—" Draco stopped when he saw the expression on her face. It was one thing for the house elf to watch the children when one of them was in the house, but quite another when there was no one else home.

"Just go, and don't take too long," Ginny told him irritably.

"I'll be back before you know it, I promise," Draco whispered as he placed a kiss on her forehead.

Draco stopped to kiss the twins and admonish them to behave for their mother before leaving the patio. He would have much rather spent the day relaxing with Ginny, but this had to be done. Just to add insult to injury, what little he'd eaten wasn't sitting comfortably in his stomach. When he reached the foyer Draco ordered Millie to bring his traveling cloak immediately.

"Draco, where are you going?" Narcissa asked as she descended the staircase.

"I have to go to the office, Mother."

"Whatever for?"

"There's some paperwork to finish from last night's meeting."

"Your wife and children miss you."

"I'm aware of that, Mother. I miss them as well, but I need to get this finished. It won't take long, and then I intend on spending the remainder of the day in their company."

"Very well." Narcissa narrowed her eyes a little. "Your behavior last night and this morning—"

"I apologise for my condition both last night and this morning. I did overindulge, and I am regretting it terribly. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get to the office so I can get home as quickly as possible." Draco threw his cloak around his shoulders and Disapparated, feeling quite relieved that he hadn't let his mother get her little telling off out of her system.

* * *

The offices of Malfoy Holdings were eerily quiet on the weekends, but Draco didn't mind. He made his way quickly to his office and set about making the changes to the documents; thankful for the notes he'd taken as they'd held their discussions the evening before. Once he was happy with the contracts, he summoned one of their best owls and attached the documents. Now there was little to do but wait for their return. There was work he could do, but he didn't want to get involved in something and have to leave it half done to go home, so it was better that he didn't start anything.

He wandered over to the couch, mostly to remove the temptation of working he felt at his desk, and sat down on the soft leather. Within minutes he was reclined comfortably, flicking through the weekend edition of the _Daily Prophet_. Draco tried to concentrate on the print in front of his eyes, but it was growing more difficult as the minutes passed—everything was getting fuzzy. The thought that he should probably get up and move around entered his head, and he was still pondering that thought when his eyes slipped closed.

* * *

Ginny tapped her foot impatiently and checked the clock for the umpteenth time. If Draco didn't hurry they were going to be late for dinner at Harry and Hermione's. She was already irate, because once again he'd broken a promise. His "one hour" of work had turned into the full day, and he hadn't answered any of the Floo calls she made. If he didn't arrive in the next half an hour she'd have to go alone or cancel.

"Mummy, are we going to Uncle Harry's now?"

"Soon, honey. We're just waiting for Daddy." Ginny tried to smile pleasantly at the twins. They were eager to spend some time with their godparents as well as their father. It just wasn't fair that Draco kept doing this to them.

"He was meant to be home ages ago," Drake grumbled.

"I'm sure he wanted to be, darling, but something must have come up."

"He's always at work," Drake muttered unhappily.

"Well, he's very busy at the moment," Ginny replied, trying not to let her own disgruntled feelings show in her tone.

"Can't we go without him?"

"We will if he's not here soon." Ginny forced another smile. "Why don't we move to the foyer, so we're all ready to go when he gets here?"

The twins slowly wandered to the foyer of the grand house with Ginny trailing behind. She desperately hoped Draco would arrive by the time they got there, so they could leave. It was hard enough keeping the children occupied at the best of times, let alone when they were bored silly. Millie greeted them with their cloaks the minute they stepped into the entrance.

"Mistress will be leaving now?"

"No, we'll wait a little longer for Draco, but the children can put their cloaks on so they're ready."

After helping the twins with their traveling cloaks, Ginny sat them down on the staircase to wait. She was too agitated to remain still, so she took to pacing the marble floor. The click of her heels echoed rhythmically through the chamber; the sound added to her frustration, as with every step she was reminded of why she was waiting. She would allow him another ten minutes then she would leave with or without him.

* * *

Draco's eyes fluttered open. It took him a few moments to get his bearings, but once the appointments of his office came into focus he remembered he'd come here to take care of the final contracts. He lifted himself off the couch slowly, rubbing his face as he stood up. The last thing he remembered was thinking that he should get up and move around before he fell asleep. Still half asleep, he wandered into his private bathroom and splashed water on his face. As soon as the contracts arrived he'd head off home, but until then he'd keep moving. He didn't want to nod off again, even for a few minutes.

When he felt refreshed, he walked back into his office. Just a few meters from his desk he noticed his owl perched on the corner with some documents attached to its leg. Draco frowned. Had the bird been here when he went to the bathroom? He quickly untied the documents and sent the bird back to the owlery. It was the signed contract, so he was free to go home.

He picked his cloak up from where he'd draped it over a chair and threw it around his shoulders. As he turned to leave his heart leapt into his throat. The clock on his desk caught his attention. It couldn't possibly be that time. He'd only nodded off for a few minutes, surely. With his heart thundering, Draco plucked his timepiece from his breast pocket and cursed loudly when it confirmed the time. It was almost six o'clock in the evening. He had promised he'd be home hours ago. Ginny was going to be furious with him and he couldn't blame her.

As much as he would have liked to delay his imminent death, he thought the better of it and Disapparated right away. There was some hope that she'd listen to reason. After all she knew how tired he was, and it wasn't as if he'd meant to fall asleep.

Draco Apparated into the foyer of his home, almost landing on his pacing wife.

"Gin, I'm so sorry, love. I—"

"I don't want to hear it, Draco," Ginny snarled. "We're ready to go to dinner, are you?"

"I umm—" Draco looked down at his sleep rumpled clothes and then at his wife's angry face. While going to dinner like this didn't sit comfortably with him, he didn't think suggesting a change of clothes would be the smartest thing he could do at the moment. "Yeah, it's only Potter's... I'll go as I am."

Ginny looked his attire up and down disapprovingly. "Fine," she snapped.

"Let's go then," Draco suggested. "Drake, come here mate, you can travel with me."

Drake looked to his mother for confirmation before moving from the step. When he was safely in his father's arms and his mother was preoccupied with Angel, the little boy smirked at his father. "You're in trouble."

"I know," Draco whispered harshly. He really didn't need to be reminded by a five-year-old.

"Lots and lots of trouble." Drake emphasized his words with a grave nod.

"Yes, thank you, son," Draco hissed. He was about to ask Ginny if she was ready when he heard her distinctive pop as she Disapparated with Angel. "Hold on, Drake."

"Yes, Daddy," Drake uttered, tightening his hold around his father's neck.

Ginny and Angel were waiting on the front porch of the Potters' modest home when Draco Apparated onto the lawn. If her expression was anything to go by, this evening wasn't going to be pleasant. He could only hope that their hosts didn't pick up on any obvious problems. The last thing he needed was her family thinking there was a problem between them.

Draco placed Drake on his feet and walked to the front door. He thought about trying to smooth things over before they announced their arrival, but one look at her expression changed his mind quickly. The thought of having an almighty row on Potter's front porch was not appealing. If he survived the night, they would talk when they returned to the manor.

"Draco, Ginny, come in," Harry gushed happily.

"Harry, thank you for the invitation," Draco intoned politely as he shook the other man's hand.

"Good to see you, Harry," Ginny said, giving Harry a brief hug.

Ever alert Harry noted there was something amiss right away. Even the twins were subdued. "Drake, Angel, are you two going to say hello?"

The twins threw themselves into their godfather's open arms the moment their parents were out of sight. When they had been thoroughly hugged, Harry ushered them into the house.

Harry could hear Hermione chatting away to their guests in the kitchen. He was surprised to hear Ginny responding in monosyllables.

Hermione abandoned the odd conversation in favor of greeting the twins the moment they came into sight.

"Draco, would you like a mead?" Harry offered.

"No, thank you."

"Butterbeer?"

Draco shot his wife a cursory glance. If she disapproved, she was hiding it well. The question was would his life be in danger if he had a drink? "Do you have Pumpkin Juice?"

"Err—yeah." Harry frowned slightly. There was definitely something going on, and given the tension in the air, it wasn't pleasant. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Draco responded quickly.

"Could have fooled me," Harry muttered. "You're both acting like someone's died."

"Not yet," Ginny quipped derisively.

Harry looked to Draco for an explanation, but his only reward was to witness the blond pale significantly. Not foolish enough to press the issue, Harry quickly changed the subject. "Why don't I get us some drinks and we can take them outside?"

"You boys go ahead and I'll bring the drinks out," Hermione insisted.

Harry threw his wife a grateful look and herded Draco out the back door.

"What happened?" Harry asked casually when they were seated at the outdoor table.

"What makes you think anything has happened?"

The urge to roll his eyes childishly at the blond wizard sitting opposite him was strong. Either Draco thought they were stupid or he was in denial. Harry pinned Draco with a knowing look that seemed to make the man uncharacteristically fidgety. "Let's examine the evidence. You could cut the air with a knife when you and Ginny are in the same room. She's glaring at you so viciously I'm surprised you haven't turned to stone. The twins are not only unusually quiet; they're watching the two of you like hawks, as if they're expecting something to happen. And let's not forget that not so subtle promise of death."

"It's none of your business," Draco snarled irritably.

"No, it's not, but Ginny is like a sister to me, and she's unhappy so I make it my business."

Draco cursed under his breath and fixed the Auror across the table with a cold glare.

"Look, Malfoy, I know you aren't used to sharing, but wouldn't you rather be talking to me than six red-headed older brothers?" Harry knew it was a dirty way to get Draco to talk, but he had a feeling the man was floundering with whatever this problem was.

Draco considered his position for a few moments and decided to give the nosy bastard a brief outline of why Ginny was upset just to shut him up. "I've been working late a bit, and last night I overindulged at a business dinner. Needless to say, she wasn't pleased and I had to go to the office today to finish the paperwork from last night's business meeting."

"I'm a bit confused. Apart from having a few drinks last night, you don't seem to have done much else but work."

"Yeah, well, I did screw up today."

"How?"

"She wasn't happy when I left and I promised I'd be home in an hour."

"You were obviously longer."

"A lot longer. I fell asleep at the office."

"How late were you then?"

"I was gone for almost eight hours."

"You're lucky you're still breathing."

"I'm beginning to think she's just keeping me alive merely for her own amusement."

"That's entirely possible," Harry agreed. "She does have a spiteful streak in her."

"Anyway, now you know."

"The question is what are you going to do to make her smile again?"

Draco expelled a large breath and ran his hands through his hair. "I don't know. I tried to explain, but she cut me off."

"It's probably better to let her cool down a bit."

"I don't think she's going to listen to me no matter how calm she is."

"Well then, you have to do something to get her attention. What do you have planned for tomorrow?"

"Nothing at the moment."

"Maybe you should spend the day together—just the two of you."

"Then she'll tell me I'm not spending any time with the twins, and I'll be in trouble for that."

"I think it's time for you to face facts." Harry smirked across the table. "You can't win. No matter what you do you're a dead man."

"Thank you, Potter."

Harry's emerald eyes danced with merriment behind his spectacles. "You're very welcome."

Draco's lip curled in a half-hearted snarl. It wasn't bad enough that he'd just confided in Potter, now the man was laughing at him. What irked him most was the fact that Potter was right. He was dead no matter what he did or how he handled the situation.

"All you have to do is find a balance. Make sure you spend time as a family and with Ginny alone."

"I know what I have to do," Draco snapped. "I just have to find a way to make it happen."

Harry held his hands up as if in surrender. "I was only trying to help."

"You call that _help_?"

"You didn't even want to tell me what the problem was."

"You didn't ask!"

"Yes, I did," Harry responded calmly.

"You were just being nosy," Draco sniped.

Harry cursed under his breath. There were times when he really just felt like hexing Draco into the next century. "What will it take for you to believe that people actually care?"

"Why would _you_?"

"I can think of three very good reasons: Ginny, Drake and Angel."

"Well—I—"

"Look, we care about them and in turn it means we care about—" Harry paused and pulled a face. "—you."

Draco stared at the man across the table. He was seriously considering placing a Floo call to St. Mungo's — one of their patients was sure to be missing.

"Don't think it doesn't kill me to admit that, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't—"

"I won't," Draco agreed quickly. There was no way he was going to tell _anyone_ about Potter's admission, no way in hell.

"Good," Harry uttered. "Look, what you have to do is come up with a strategy for balancing everything. Ginny isn't an unreasonable woman, but she is pregnant at the moment, and she's probably not feeling all that comfortable at the house yet."

"When did you become an expert?"

"I'm not, but I figure two heads are better than one when it comes to figuring out the more complicated sex."

"I don't believe this," Draco mumbled as he shook his head.

"If you want to ask someone more experienced I'm sure Bill or Charlie wouldn't mind lending an ear. Of course, if you're after expert help then your father-in-law would be the man you'd want to speak with."

"No, I don't want them to know."

"I didn't think so. The problem is, if you don't sort it out soon they'll all know, because the fact that you two have a problem is pretty obvious."

"You don't think I realize this?"

"I never implied you didn't. I merely stated the fact."

"You're enjoying this, aren't you, Potter?"

"Believe it or not, I'm not enjoying it at all. I know I should be, everything tells me I should be, but I'm not. You're both miserable, and that's bothering me for some bizarre reason."

Draco stared across the table with an incredulous expression on his face. "You're losing your mind."

"Don't remind me," Harry muttered. "So what are you going to do?"

Draco took a long drink of pumpkin juice and more than half wished it was something stronger. "I'm going to spend tomorrow with them."

"Good."

The men smoothly changed their topic of conversation as the women stepped outside. It wasn't until Ginny sat next to Harry that Draco realized the women must have had a similar conversation. A conversation that had obviously upset his wife given she was now a little pale and her eyes were red, as if she'd been crying. He desperately wanted to reach out to her, but given her mood before they left the manor he decided not to risk rejection or worse — an embarrassing scene.

Throughout the evening, the Potters kept the conversation flowing with an inordinate amount of small talk. Harry was eventually able to get the twins to liven up and that helped the night along tremendously until the children began to tire. The tension between Draco and Ginny didn't lessen even a little. They hardly spoke directly to each other at all, despite Draco's best efforts to portray a normal facade.

Ginny's stubborn attitude was bothering Draco greatly. He had been brought up to present a certain persona in public, despite what his personal feelings were at the time. If he didn't think he'd be signing his own death warrant he'd be tempted to explain to his wife that no matter what their personal problems might be they were expected to present an appropriate public face when necessary. Of course, commonsense prevailed, and his thoughts went unvoiced. Perhaps when she wasn't so angry with him, and he was bored with sleeping in his own bed, he'd have a quiet word about his expectations when they were away from home.

Near the end of the evening, Hermione cornered Draco in the bathroom. He knew it was a mistake to leave the company of his wife to visit the lavatory after the looks the brown-haired witch had be sending him when no one else appeared to be watching.

"Draco," Hermione started sternly.

Draco sighed heavily and turned towards the door, still drying his hands on a guest towel. "Yes, Hermione."

"Ginny isn't very happy at the moment."

"Really? I hadn't noticed," Draco quipped dryly.

"This is serious. She was in tears earlier."

"I know. I'm not blind."

"What are you going to do about it?"

"I'm going to make tomorrow all about her and the twins."

"One day isn't going to fix this."

"It won't just be one day. I've been working on a certain contract, and today I received the signed paperwork, so I won't be working quite so late now," Draco explained evenly. He was at a loss as to why he was finding it necessary to justify himself to this woman.

"So she can expect you home for dinner from now on?"

"Yes," Draco growled, his patience wearing thin. "Do you all think I like working ungodly hours? It drives me just as insane being away from her and the kids."

"If that's the case then you need to make the effort to get home and spend some quality time with them."

"Potter might be able to leave work whenever he wants, but I can't. I have my own business and its success depends on me being there, doing the hard work."

"I thought your father was the owner."

"He's starting to hand over to me, which means I have to follow certain deals through from start to finish without any assistance from him. I have to do whatever is necessary to secure the business we're chasing, and if that means working twenty-four hours a day for a few weeks then so be it."

"Did you explain this to Ginny?"

"She knows we've been busy."

"Draco, she knows you've not made it home for dinner. She doesn't know what you've been doing, not really."

"What are you on about, woman?"

"It's silly, but you have to remember that she's hormonal at the moment. Foolish thoughts pop into her head and begin to breed."

"What sort of thoughts?"

"Things like you're not attracted to her anymore."

"Rubbish."

"Or you're having an affair."

Draco's mind stopped working momentarily. How could Ginny even think something like that? "_What_?"

"I told you they were silly thoughts, but they're what she's been dealing with all week."

"Does she really think—"

"No, I'm sure she doesn't." Hermione shook her head strongly. "The point is she doesn't understand why you're working such hours. It's not like you need the Galleons."

"Has it ever occurred to you, or anyone else, that we're financially secure because we do work hard? If we don't continue then there won't be anything left for the future—for our children or grandchildren."

"I'm sure that's an understatement," Hermione responded sharply. "Ginny needs your attention now, not in a year or two when you have time—now."

"Thank you for your opinion, Hermione, but I'm certain I can handle my wife and my marriage without your input," Draco snarled. His patience was hanging on by just a thread, and to avoid a scene or telling the witch in front of him what he really thought of her, he needed to put an end to the situation.

Hermione snorted with laughter. "If you think you're going to handle Ginny your marriage is already in big trouble."

"Do not twist my words," Draco said in a low voice. "You know exactly what I meant."

"Do I?"

Draco gave Hermione a contemptuous look and slipped past her. His patience was spent and his temper was rising, so it was better to remove himself from the situation as quickly as possible. If he could make it back to the sitting room before she collared him again, he'd be safe.

As Draco entered the sitting room, he noticed that Angel was almost asleep on her godfather's lap and Drake, who was sitting on the floor before the unlit hearth, looked as though he was struggling to keep his eyes open. It was the perfect excuse to bring the night to a close and escape the unwanted advice coming from Hermione.

"I think we should call it a night before the children fall asleep, Ginny," Draco said gently.

"Fine," Ginny responded impassively, getting to her feet.

Harry stood up with Angel in his arms. "When you're ready to go I'll pass her straight to you, Draco."

"Thanks," Draco replied with a tight smile.

After Draco had assisted Ginny into her traveling cloak, much to her displeasure, he thanked Harry and Hermione for their hospitality, and took Angel from her godfather. He watched as Ginny hugged her friends and thanked them for the evening. Words were passed between the three that Draco couldn't hear, but he could imagine what was being said. Not that he was that bothered, because he was determined to put everything to rights tomorrow. It would have been nice to start tonight, but given Ginny's mood it was probably safer to make a fresh start tomorrow.

When Harry had convinced a very sleepy Drake to get to his feet, so he could go home, the family moved to the front porch. Final goodbyes and light kisses for the twins were exchanged before the family Disapparated.

As soon as they got home, Draco offered to tuck the twins into bed, so Ginny could relax. She bid both the children goodnight without responding to him and headed for their chambers. Draco took charge of the children, and in no time they were in their pajamas, drifting off to sleep in their own beds. Though it didn't take him all that long to sort the twins out, Ginny appeared to be already asleep when he entered their bedchamber. He prepared for bed quietly and slipped between the covers. The urge to reach out to his wife was great, but he knew she would reject any physical contact until he'd made amends. Sleep was a long time coming for the blond wizard, but he made good use of the time by making some loose plans for the following day. He was going to do everything in his power to win the affection of his wife back, starting first thing tomorrow morning.

* * *

The moment Draco walked into the office on Monday morning, he instructed his secretary to send an obscenely large bouquet of roses to his wife. He couldn't believe he'd fallen asleep the night before. To make matters worse, he'd had to leave before she woke up this morning and he knew she wasn't going to be pleased when she discovered his absence. Guilt didn't sit very well with him, especially when he was feeling exhausted, and he was desperate to erase the horrid feeling.

To be honest, he was surprised he'd made it as far as he had through yesterday without collapsing from exhaustion. He also wasn't shocked that one night's sleep hadn't erased the fatigue he was plagued with. It was going to take him a while to get himself back to normal. Longer than it would have taken him before he was married, because he knew he had to dedicate some time to his family, which is what he tried to do the day before.

Despite not having caught up on his lost sleep from the week before, he started his Sunday morning with a very early horse ride through the forest surrounding the estate with the twins before breakfast. After a family breakfast, Draco had taken the twins flying while Ginny relaxed with a good book, and then they'd taken a leisurely walk through the grounds until they came upon the place where he'd earlier arranged the servants to deliver a picnic lunch with all the trimmings. Once their midday feast had digested enough, the family went swimming in the lake, spending what remained of the daylight hours playing on the shores or in the water.

When the sun had finally began to dip low in the sky, they returned to the house. Drake and Angel had been so tired they'd very nearly fallen asleep over their dinner, and had subsequently been bathed and tucked into bed extra early. At the time Draco was a little disappointed because he'd wanted to spend a nice evening with his family doing normal family things — Wizards Chess or the like. His disappointment had quickly been pushed aside when he realized he'd be able to have a romantic dinner with his beautiful wife. After taking their meal on the balcony of their suite, Draco showered quickly, stating he had one more surprise for Ginny that he needed to arrange while she took a leisurely bath.

Draco ordered the servants to bring up a bottle of faux champagne and some strawberries with dipping chocolate for their enjoyment. When he could fiddle with the presentation of the 'champagne' and fruit no more, Draco sunk onto the bed for what he thought was just a few minutes while he waited for his wife to finish bathing. The day had been perfect. Ginny had forgiven him sometime during their walk through the gardens. Her hand had imperceptibly tightened its grip on his, and he just knew he was forgiven. Still he hadn't abandoned his plans then. This day was entirely about making her happy, and besides he was having a fantastic time, despite being so tired he was struggling to keep his eyes open at times. All he had to do now was wait for her to finish her bath, so he would spoil her just a little more, before making love to her for as long as he could, and falling asleep with her body draped across his comfortingly.

The next thing he knew it was morning.

He heaved a heavy, irritated sigh and snatched a file from his in tray. The desire to just stay at home today was strong, but he had to do the right thing and come into the office. All he could do was hope that he would be able to get away at a decent hour, so he could make up for the one thing he'd wanted to do, but didn't get to yesterday, and that in the mean time the flowers would soothe any hurt she was feeling.

* * *

Ginny strode down the corridor towards Draco's office like she owned the place. The employees who recognized her greeted her politely, but she ignored them for the most part. Upon reaching her husband's office, Ginny cleared her throat meaningfully as she walked into his reception area.

Draco's secretary's head snapped up. "Mrs. Malfoy, we weren't expecting you today."

"Is my husband in his office?"

"Yes he is, Mrs. Malfoy."

"Does he have any appointments this afternoon?"

"Just one, with Mr. Malfoy Senior."

"What time?"

"It's due to start in half an hour."

Ginny thought for a moment. She had hoped Draco wouldn't have anything scheduled for the afternoon, because it would have made it easier. "Reschedule it for much later in the afternoon."

"I can't do that, Mrs. Malfoy."

"Yes you can, and if Lucius asks, tell him I demanded the change," Ginny responded haughtily, giving the woman her best impression of Narcissa.

"I—err—"

Ginny cut her off before she could once again tell her that her request wasn't possible. "We're not to be disturbed under any circumstances. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Mrs. Malfoy."

"Good."

Ginny turned away from the baffled secretary and let herself into her husband's office. The poor woman was probably going to have nightmares for the next month due to her, but Ginny didn't care.

Draco's eyes drifted upwards in the direction of the door. He'd left specific instructions with his secretary about being disturbed before the meeting with his father. His expression went from coldly annoyed to surprise the instant he saw his wife slipping into the room.

"Ginny, what are you doing here?"

"I came to see you."

"Did you get the flowers?"

"Mmm..."

Draco observed his wife carefully. There was something different about her. "Did you like them?"

"They were all right, but not exactly what I wanted from you."

Draco placed his quill on his desk and smirked. There was something going on that he wasn't aware of, but was sure she would tell him about in time. "Not what you wanted? It would help if you'd tell me what you wanted."

"Are you saying you have _no_ idea?"

"You're not exactly making yourself clear, love."

Ginny perched herself on the corner of Draco's large desk and sent him a smoldering look. "Why did you send me flowers, Draco?"

"I—err—well, I promised you— something last night, and I inadvertently fell asleep. I just wanted to let you know I was thinking about you this morning."

"That was very sweet of you, but—"

Draco frowned at his wife. He knew the flowers he'd sent her had cost him a small fortune. "But what?"

"Well, they don't exactly make me _feel_ loved."

"Wh—I—" Draco's mind was struggling to comprehend exactly what his wife was implying. The fact that he was sitting in his office at work, with his secretary just outside the door, wasn't helping matters. He watched his wife unfold and then refold her legs. She had lovely legs, they were so pretty to look at, and they felt amazing when they were wrapped around him. He slapped himself mentally, before his ever-raging male libido could take over his mind as well as his being and deliberately moved his eyes up her body. A mistake of grand proportions, in his opinion, for when he reached her chest it seemed to be moving up and down far more than was necessary for normal respiration. With his eyes fixated on Ginny's heaving breasts, Draco's mind began to wander in a direction not appropriate for their location.

Ginny leaned over, affording her distracted husband a mind-befuddling peek down her blouse. She placed a single finger under his chin and lifted his head until their gazes locked. "Do you see something you like?"

Draco's mouth went dry. His wife was _seducing_ him at _work_. The next thing that entered his mind was a harsh reminder that he had a meeting in less than half an hour with his father. Somehow, he didn't think Lucius would be terribly forgiving if he skived off for reasons that weren't exactly life or death related.

"Ginny." Draco forced himself to take her hands in his and focus on what he had to say. "I have a meeting with my father very soon."

"I rescheduled your meeting."

"You _what_?"

"It was only with Lucius."

Draco rested his forehead on their joined hands and sighed. "It wasn't just with Father. The meeting was with the owner of the company, Ginny. My boss."

"It's not like he's going to fire you for rescheduling one meeting."

"Well that depends on what I'm rescheduling for."

"Draco, he's not going to sack you no matter what you do."

"No, I won't lose my job, but he will air his displeasure."

"Whose displeasure would you rather feel?"

Though her tone was distinctly sultry, Draco felt certain there was a genuine threat, or worse a promise, in her last statement. He raised an inquiring eyebrow at her. There was only one right answer in this situation and he knew it, however morally corrupt it might be.

"I've been very patient while you've been busy with work, but my thumbs are getting sore."

Draco frowned deeply. His brothers-in-law had warned him that pregnant women didn't always make sense, and he knew it was probably a mistake to ask the question, but he couldn't help himself. "Why are your thumbs sore?"

"After a week of twiddling them while you're downstairs in your study working or here at the office until Merlin only knows what hour they're sore."

Draco tried hard to hide the smirk threatening to tug at his lips. Now was not the time to show his amusement. He knew he'd neglected his wife's needs over the past week or so, but it couldn't be helped. It wasn't as if he hadn't tried to make up for it either, but yesterday had been so exhausting he doubted if falling asleep was the correct term for what he'd done last night — it was more like passing out. He lifted her hands to his mouth and gently kissed each of her thumbs.

"Better?"

"No."

"What would make you feel better?" Draco realized his monumental error in tactics the moment he saw his wife's nefarious expression. He should have just kept his mouth shut; it was far safer in situations like this.

Ginny extracted her hands from Draco's and slid off the desk. She pushed gently on his shoulders, so that he sat back in his large chair, and then straddled his legs. "I need something so that I stop twiddling my thumbs."

"This really isn't appropriate behavior for the office," Draco protested half-heartedly. "My secretary could walk in."

"She won't," Ginny assured him.

"You can't be certain."

"Yes, I can." Ginny smirked.

Draco's eyes widened. He shuddered to think what his secretary thought was going on in here. Then again, given his wife's persistent attitude, she'd probably be guessing the truth. Draco decided then that all he could do was hope that none of this made it to the office gossips, because it didn't seem as though Ginny was going to give him a choice. She was going to have her wicked way with him, whether he liked it or not. Given enough time Draco would freely admit that he decidedly liked the idea, but at the moment, he was feeling a little torn.

Ginny leaned forward and brushed her lips over Draco's softly. She withdrew slowly and caught his eyes with hers.

"Should we Apparate home?" Draco whispered huskily.

"No, I feel like being naughty," Ginny purred.

Draco didn't know whether to thank the deities or to curse them. How many men had their wives show up at work like this? More to the point, who was he to knock back the offer?

A wicked smirk crept across his features. If this was what she wanted, then he was certainly not going to disappoint her, but there was only one way to do it in the office during business hours: fast and hard. His hands ran up her sides and tangled them in her rich hair before claiming her mouth passionately. It seemed all Ginny had been waiting for was his acquiescence to step up proceedings. He could feel her nimble fingers tugging somewhat impatiently at the buttons on his shirt. Somewhere in the back of his mind he begged whoever might be listening that none of the buttons saw fit to pop off, because he was certain he didn't have another clean shirt in the office and those domestic charms had always baffled him. The thought was banished when he drifted down the milky column of her neck. It tasted so sweet that the idea that he could happily spend the rest of his existence nibbling on her creamy skin wasn't beyond comprehension.

* * *

As Ginny lay there trying to catch her breath, she became conscious of all that she was laying on. There was something that felt rather like a quill digging painfully into her backside, and her head was resting on something lumpy, she hoped it wasn't an inkwell. She struggled to sit up and make herself more comfortable. Draco had that distinctly sated look on his face, which told her categorically he was ready for a nap. Despite his initial protests, she'd hear nothing but positive things from this little escapade.

Draco gathered his wife in his arms and placed a lingering kiss on her head. "That was—"

"Just enough to take the edge off," Ginny finished for him smugly. She gently pushed him away from her, slid from the desk and pulled her skirt down. There was no way she was going to fawn over him now; that would come tonight, when he made the effort to come home at a decent hour, and not before. "Don't work late tonight."

Draco was struck speechless as Ginny sauntered to his office door, buttoning her blouse as she went. Where were his little words of love? She'd not even uttered a simple 'I love you'. All he got was a view of her backside swaying delightfully on its way to the door. Just before she opened the door, she shook her hair out, so it didn't look so mussed and gave him a decidedly saucy smile. It was around then that his senses returned to him. Though it wasn't anything that his wife did, her presence was still befuddling his mind. It was the very real sound of his father's angry voice railing at his secretary when the door opened. He hurriedly pulled his trousers up, fastening them quickly at his waist and was still straightening his shirt when Lucius burst into his office.

"What is the meaning of rescheduling our meeting?"

"That wasn't me, Father. Ginevra took it upon herself to rearrange my schedule. She needed—err— an hour or so of my time," Draco responded evenly. "I apologize for any inconvenience the deferment may have caused you."

Lucius strolled further into the office. He was neither blind nor stupid. Over the years, he'd lost count of how many times he'd interrupted his son while he had some tart from the secretarial pool bent over his desk, but that was before Ginevra had taken up residence in his heart. Lucius had noticed the expression on his daughter-in-law's face as she left the office, and the smug smile she'd given him as they passed each other was extraordinary to say the least. The woman looked as though she was the cat, who not only caught the canary, but was lucky enough to have it served with the cream as well. With that in mind, he scanned the office as he entered; searching for evidence of what he suspected had been happening while he had been barred from entering the room. A smirk tugged at his mouth when he spied exactly what he was looking for hanging carelessly off of the arm of one of the visitors' chairs. "What did Ginevra need you for that was so urgent?"

"Just some personal business," Draco answered vaguely as he realized he'd inadvertently buttoned his shirt wrong.

Lucius stared pointedly at the virginal white lace knickers that obviously once resided under his daughter-in-law's skirt. "Indeed."

"Father!" Draco strode around his desk and snatched the flimsy lace garment from its position, stuffing it into his pocket. "I'll thank you not to—"

"Not to what?" Lucius questioned audaciously.

"Father." The warning in Draco's tone was unmistakable. The last thing he wanted to do was get into a discussion about his sex life with his father at work.

Lucius waved off the unspoken threat. "I suggest you re-button your shirt before the staff catches a glimpse of you, and you might zip your fly up as well. It might pay to advertise when you are single, but you are a married man now."

Draco could feel heat creeping up his neck and into his face. To have his father make such comments was simply humiliating. Still there was no point arguing with Lucius. It was obvious that he'd guessed what business Ginny had at the office. He also knew he had to make himself presentable before anyone saw him in this state of undress.

"Now that you're dressed appropriately, we can have that conference."

Without meeting his father's gaze, Draco strode around his desk and sat down. The last thing he felt like doing now was concentrating on business, but it seemed he had little choice. He rested his arms on his desk and immediately withdrew upon feeling something wet seep through the fabric on his arm. So as not to create a scene, which he had no doubt his father would find amusing, Draco casually placed a clean piece of parchment over the offending area of the desk — he'd have to clean that up when he had some privacy. While he was waiting for Lucius to get comfortable, he promised himself he'd be heading home just as soon as he could for a little more of what his wife had silently promised him on her way out.

* * *

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE**_

_Thanks to Rainpuddle13 for her amazing beta skills and plot discussions._

_Thank you to everyone who took the time to review!_

_For those of you who'd like to read the missing scene from the office just remove the spaces from the following address:_

_http// dragonsangel68 .livejournal. com/ 215910. html_


	7. You Can Pick Your Friends

**_Disclaimer_**_: I don't own any of the characters you may recognize from the wonderful world of Harry Potter, they all belong to the revered JK Rowling; I just like to play with them a little._

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

**YOU CAN PICK YOUR FRIENDS**

Lucius sat down with a vicious snarl snaking its way up his throat, threatening to burst forth at the dinner table of all places. His son's self-satisfied smirk and buoyant mood was irking him more than his actions had this afternoon. Not to mention that the _boy_ was clinging to his mother's skirts and keeping his wife by his side to hold off the diatribe he so desperately wanted to serve him. He swallowed the snarl for the sake of propriety and to keep in his own wife's good graces. Sooner or later, he would catch Draco alone, and then he would vent his displeasure in a most hostile manner. Of course, until then he would dwell on the cause of his displeasure.

After their delayed meeting this afternoon, Lucius had returned to his own office for a short time, and then had gone to seek Draco's opinion on something trivial only to discover that he had decamped for the day, according to his secretary. Given that Lucius had stewed for a few hours on that morsel, he was further vexed upon arriving home where he was told by the servants that their 'master' was not to be disturbed for any reason whatsoever. Prior to storming up the staircase, Lucius sent the servants scattering into the bowels of the house under the threat of clothes. Determined to speak to his son, he disregarded the message relayed by the house elves and barged into his son's private suite. Half way across their private sitting room, Lucius realized that whatever activity Draco and Ginevra were engaged in, it did not sound like a spectator sport. He retreated hastily, grumbling to himself about how irresponsible his son was acting.

He watched as Draco lifted his wine glass, tilting it ever so slightly in his direction before taking a mouthful. Lucius returned the smug smirk with an icy glare. Draco obviously knew he wanted a word, and how it was bothering him to keep away from the topic while at the table.

Unable to keep his silence any longer, Lucius adopted a nonchalant tone and enquired, "Draco, what do you have planned for after dinner?"

"I promised Drake a game of Wizard Chess and Angel a story before bedtime."

"Perhaps, once the children are in bed, you could spare five minutes?"

Draco's eyes danced with amusement. "Sorry, Father, I promised my wife something as well."

"You've just spent the afternoon—"

"And I intend to spend the evening giving an encore performance," Draco finished for him. "Whatever it is, it can wait until tomorrow."

Lucius snarled and stabbed at his meat viciously. If he pushed the issue Narcissa was sure to voice her disapproval, and he didn't wish to endanger his own enjoyment of the evening by angering his own wife. "I suppose you're still leaving early tomorrow?"

"Yes, and Thursday as well. We've scheduled two interviews each afternoon for the prospective tutors."

Lucius growled something unintelligible.

"Oh, Lucius, calm down. It's important that the right person be selected to tutor our grandchildren," Narcissa chided.

Lucius sent a subtle look of disbelief in his wife's direction. This was not about the selection of a suitable tutor; it was about Draco's lack of discipline at the office. He knew better than to attempt to clarify his thoughts at the dinner table, so he remained silent. Later, when they had some privacy, he would explain his position and perhaps she would then understand.

For the remainder of the meal, Lucius did not participate in the light conversation going on around him, unless he was asked a direct question. He preferred to sulk at the end of the table, not that anyone else was bothered. As soon as everyone had finished dessert, Draco herded his family back to their own wing for a night of simple pleasures in each other's company. Before he left, he did extend an invitation to his parents to join them, but Narcissa declined politely, telling him he needed to spend this time with the children and Ginevra.

* * *

There was an extra bounce in Draco's step as he left his daughter's suite and made his way to his own suite. He'd managed to keep all the promises he'd made in relation to games with the children, and he got to tuck them into bed. Now, he was contemplating joining his wife in the bath for a little before bedtime fun.

"Draco?"

"Father, what are you doing lurking in the shadows?"

"I was waiting for you."

"If this has anything to do with the office it can wait until tomorrow morning."

"I'm afraid it can't wait."

Draco's demeanor immediately soured.

"Your conduct today was highly unprofessional," Lucius continued.

"Quite frankly, I don't care. After last week, my wife deserves some of my time, and I'm not about to deny her."

"I'm referring to your questionable behavior _in_ the office, and then your unplanned absence this afternoon."

"What I do in _my_ office—"

"Is the latest gossip circulating the secretarial pool," Lucius hissed.

"So?" Draco shrugged nonchalantly. "Everyone knows I love my wife."

"No, they know you bent her over your desk."

Draco snarled audibly. "What I do with _my_ wife is _my_ business."

"I don't dispute that, but when you do it at the office, it fast becomes a topic of discussion among the plebeians."

"You would know," Draco retorted.

Lucius arched an eyebrow at his son. He hadn't heard Draco take that tone with him since he was a teenager with too many hormones running riot through his body. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It seems Mother helped Ginny in her quest to get my attention in a meaningful manner. She even looked after the twins while Ginny visited the office."

Lucius' nostrils flared with indignation. He certainly hadn't been having sex in his office — well at least not in the last five years or so.

"I wonder where Mother got such an idea from?"

"You would be best to leave that alone," Lucius growled.

"As would you," Draco intoned calmly. "Now, if that was all, I'm going to join my _insatiable_ wife in the bathtub."

Lucius mouth twitched as if he wanted to respond, but he voiced nothing.

Draco smirked at the expression on his father's face and continued down the corridor to his suite. He'd have been lying if he said he wasn't shocked when Ginny had told him it was Narcissa's idea to seduce him at the office, but he was very glad she had thought to inform him. Little morsels of information like that were useful when he was dealing with his father after such a tryst.

Upon closing his suite doors behind him, Draco started removing his clothing. By the time he reached the bathroom doors, there was a trail of shed garments marking out his path. He let himself into the bathroom quietly, so as not to startle Ginny. She was so relaxed she didn't so much as flutter an eyelash when he entered the room.

Draco allowed his eyes to roam over the scene before him. One of her legs was raised on the side of the bath; his eyes followed her creamy flesh all the way into the thick bubbles hiding her nudity. He didn't think he'd ever seen anything more erotic in his life. Just the knowledge that she was completely bare under those bubbles was enough to get his libido pumping.

Her eyes flickered open when his foot entered the water. "Are the twins asleep?"

"Sound asleep," Draco confirmed. "Sit up a bit, so I can get in behind you."

After a few minutes of maneuvering, Ginny settled back into his chest with a contented sigh. Draco placed a long kiss on her exposed neck, and his hands floated down to her abdomen, resting protectively over his unborn child. This was far better than being at the office until all hours. He'd missed his wife's company so much last week that he swore to himself he wouldn't let it happen again—at least not to the extent it had.

* * *

Ginny checked, for possibly the tenth time, that the interview file was on Draco's desk and hoped for the millionth time that he'd arrive home, so she could relax. If the interviewee due in less than fifteen minutes was Ginny's choice, Clare Sheehan, then she wouldn't have been bothered, but it was Mr. Amherst, the applicant Draco had insisted on seeing again.

The twins were in their playroom under the surveillance of Millie. Ginny had spoken to them this morning about what was going to happen this afternoon and what was expected of them. She had Ippy on standby to collect the children when the time was right — it was far better than having them sit through the entire interview.

The door to the study burst open suddenly, startling Ginny from her thoughts.

"Ginny, love, I'm so sorry," Draco blurted on his way across the room. "I've just Disapparated mid-conversation with Father."

"You what?"

Draco placed a chaste kiss on her cheek. "You know he wasn't happy with me taking the time out from the office."

"Yes," Ginny replied tentatively.

"Well, he tried his utmost to keep me there, so when he wouldn't shut up gracefully, I simply left in the most absolute way I could." Draco grinned amusedly at his wife. "I should think he's going to be livid."

"He won't disturb the interviews, will he?"

"No, he wouldn't want to damage his reputation by allowing a stranger to witness his venting."

Ginny breathed a sigh of relief. "Good."

"Of course, he'll seek me out eventually," Draco said seriously. "When he does, I want you to remove yourself and the children, if you're anywhere in the vicinity."

"Why?"

"Love, he's going to be more than just a little angry. I don't want you witnessing such behavior." When Ginny's expression still showed she didn't quite understand he continued, "It could get ugly, and I don't think he'll stop to consider who might hear him if it's just family in the house."

"All right, I'll run away when he shows up."

"Good girl," Draco cooed, placing a firm kiss on her mouth. "How long do we have?"

"About five minutes."

"Enough time to snog you senseless," Draco replied cheekily, descending on her mouth with certain intent.

Ginny welcomed her husband's advances warmly. It had been so long since they'd simply flirted with each other and she'd missed it greatly.

"Master, Mr. Amherst is arrived," Ippy announced.

Draco drew away from his wife reluctantly. "Shame we can't reschedule these interviews," he muttered.

"You are in a naughty mood," she chided in good humor, straightening his necktie before he could pull away altogether. "Show Mr. Amherst in, Ippy."

"As Mistress wishes." Ippy bowed low to the floor before vanishing from sight.

Draco strode around his desk, dragging one of the visitors' chairs with him and positioning it at the corner of the vast table, closest to his chair, for Ginny to use while the interviews were in progress. "Come and sit down, Ginny. Is this the file for the first interview?"

"Yes, the rest are in your second drawer."

"Thank you, love." Draco sat down in his leather chair and opened the file, so he could quickly peruse the notes taken at Mr. Amherst's first interview.

Ginny sat in the chair Draco had arranged for her. She was watching her husband closely. It amazed her how quickly he could go from being playful to being the consummate businessman in control of everything. There was something very desirable about him when he was in this mode. A yearning to abandon her own chair and perch herself on his lap was gnawing at her, but she behaved, knowing full well that they had to get through these interviews.

A firm knock at the door echoed through the study, pulling both Draco and Ginny from their respective musings.

"Are you ready?" Draco asked quietly.

"Yes, let's get this started," Ginny replied wistfully. There were now much better things she would rather be doing — like upsetting her husband's perfect appearance and in-control demeanor — but she was compelled to do the responsible thing.

With a last smile at his wife, Draco directed his gaze to the door. "Enter."

Ginny tried to smile pleasantly as the door opened, but it felt stained and false, so she opted for a neutral expression. It was no secret that she didn't particularly care for this wizard and really didn't want to meet with him again.

Draco stood as the wizard came into view. "Mr. Amherst, a pleasure to see you again."

"Mr. Malfoy, Mrs. Malfoy, thank you for the opportunity to meet your children."

Draco shook hands with the man. "Please sit down."

Ginny smiled briefly and nodded at the older wizard. He still wasn't going to be teaching her children if she had any say in the matter. She tried to look interested as Draco launched into the questions he'd devised for the second round of interviews, but her mind kept wandering to more entertaining subjects.

"Ginny?" Draco expressed a little impatiently.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Ginny colored a little. Her thoughts had taken her well away from the discussion, and judging by Draco's tone he'd tried more than once to get her attention.

"Would you like to send for the children?" Draco reiterated.

"Yes, of course," Ginny responded. "Ippy, inform Millie we're ready for the twins to join us."

"As Mistress wishes," Ippy responded before Disapparating.

Ginny turned and sent a slightly guilty smile in Draco's direction. He returned it with a subtle stern look.

"I'm certain the children won't be long," Draco informed Mr. Amherst.

"As I said before, I'm looking forward to meeting them."

The man's tight smile didn't impress Ginny. He still gave her the impression that he really wasn't interested in the children at all. She listened as Draco made small talk with the man, feeling no need to try to join the stilted conversation.

A small knock at the door brought an end to the conversation. Ginny immediately got to her feet and went to greet her children. She'd decided that she wanted to be close to the twins just in case they weren't comfortable at any stage.

"Thank you, Millie," Ginny said upon opening the door. "Come in, you two."

The twins stopped just inside the door. Angel was looking at the strange wizard with open curiosity. Drake, on the other hand, kept his expression guarded.

"Drake, Angel, come forward," Draco instructed.

They shuffled forward slowly, neither in any hurry to meet the man who might become their tutor.

"I promise I won't let him bite you," Ginny whispered from behind them.

Angel giggled and, taking confidence in her mother's light tone, approached her father's desk.

Draco smiled at his daughter; she was always willing to meet new people. "Drake, would you care to join us?"

The little wizard muttered something under his breath that sounded vaguely familiar to a saying his Uncle Ronald was infamous for saying when he didn't want to do something.

Draco made a mental note to have a word to his brother-in-law about watching his mouth when the children were around. "Come on, Drake, step up here next to your sister, so I can introduce you both."

Drake stepped up close to Angel and looked at his father.

"This is Drake and Angelique," Draco said to the other wizard. "Children, this is Mr. Amherst."

"Hello, Mr. Amherst," Angel said cheerfully with a bright smile.

"Hello, Miss Malfoy, it's a pleasure to meet you."

"Hello," Drake muttered.

"Master Malfoy, I'm certain you're capable of speaking much clearer than that," Mr. Amherst responded.

Drake looked to his father for assurance, and only spoke again when he received an almost imperceptible nod. "Hello, Mr. Amherst," he said, exaggerating each syllable as if he were speaking to someone who was hard of hearing.

"That's much better," Mr. Amherst praised. "Your father tells me you're quite bright."

Drake tilted his chin slightly. "I can write my name and I can make potions really good."

"Is that a fact?"

"Yep, Uncle Sev even gave me an Outstanding."

The old wizard raised his eyebrows in disbelief and opened his mouth to respond.

"Perhaps, I should explain," Draco offered quickly, silencing the other man. "Professor Severus Snape of Hogwarts is my godfather. The last time we visited him, he allowed Drake to sit in on one of his first year classes, and he appraised Drake's potion at the end of the lesson along with his students' efforts."

"I know Severus," Mr. Amherst began. "I can't see him handing out such a high mark just to put a smile on a child's face."

"He doesn't. Drake genuinely earned the mark he was awarded," Draco said with pride. "He has a natural aptitude for potions."

"Very good," Mr. Amherst mused aloud. "This shows a great potential for problem solving."

"I also fly really, really good," Drake added.

"Fly? It's hardly important to academics," Mr. Amherst responded haughtily.

Drake looked at the man as if he'd taken leave of his senses. In his humble opinion, flying was more important than anything else, especially academics—whatever they were.

"Yes, it's more important to concentrate on your studies at this age, young man."

Much to Draco's horror his son's face contorted into a disgusted expression, and he knew Drake wasn't far away from telling the older wizard just what he thought of his ideology. A change of subject was well and truly due. "Angel is just as bright as Drake."

Amherst fixed his eyes on the little strawberry blonde. "What are you capable of, young lady?"

"I can write my name, and I know the alphabet, and Grandfather says I'm beautiful," Angel answered confidently.

"Beauty does not make up for brains," Mr. Amherst commented seriously. "Your looks will not find you a good job when your education is finished."

"Grandfather says I don't have to worry about that, because he'll look after me until I marry a handsome, rich, pureblood wizard with a castle."

Mr. Amherst appeared to be speechless for a moment or two while he stared in barely concealed horror at the little witch, and then he turned his attention to Draco. "I rather feel that the values your daughter is expressing aren't entirely conducive to a good attitude towards a successful education."

Draco opened his mouth to respond, but Ginny cut him off swiftly.

"They're five-years-old. They don't have values yet, they have dreams and wishes."

"I disagree, Mrs. Malfoy. Children raised with realistic values have more sagacious views on their abilities and goals."

Although Ginny didn't want her children to grow up expecting to live on the family fortune or simply to marry more money, she didn't appreciate this wizard's assessment of their views on life after talking to them for less than five minutes. "Well, my children are normal five-year-olds with dreams about their futures. They may not be realistic at this stage, but they're not supposed to be. Any child who is already planning a career at this age must have very sorry excuse for a childhood," she responded strongly.

"Yes, well I think we'll leave it there," Draco interjected carefully. He didn't want to think about what his wife might do to the man if he was foolish enough to contradict her again. "Thank you so much for coming, Mr. Amherst. We'll be making our final decision in due time and you'll be advised of your success."

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy." Mr. Amherst stood and shook hands with Draco. Then he turned and inclined his head with respect. "Mrs. Malfoy."

"Ippy, show Mr. Amherst out," Draco ordered, before Ginny could respond.

The house elf shuffled out of the shadows. "As Master wishes."

With a final nod of his head, the wizard followed the servant from the study.

"I don't like him," Angel blurted as the door closed.

Ginny pinned Draco with a meaningful look. She knew there was something she didn't like about the man the first time she met him and the last few minutes had confirmed her feelings. There was little doubt in her mind that every student who had the misfortune to come across this educator would turn out like her brother, Percy. It was a frightening prospect.

"Don't say it," Draco warned quietly. He was loath to admit that the man was now out of contention due to his argumentative attitude towards Ginny. It was one thing to employ someone with strong values, but quite another to have him argue them with his employers. The thought of what Ginny might do to the man if Draco wasn't there to referee was bloodcurdling.

"There's no need," Ginny replied smugly. "I can tell by your expression that you now see what I couldn't put my finger on before."

Draco pulled his timepiece from his pocket and checked it intently. He was determined not to get into a discussion with Ginny about Amherst and her being right, at least not in front of the twins. "A cup of tea would be nice. We have about an hour before the next applicant is due."

Ginny smirked. "Nice change of subject."

"What? I'm thirsty."

"Millie, please arrange a tea tray and some pumpkin juice for the children," Ginny instructed.

"Yes, Mistress."

The family moved over to the comfortable chairs around the hearth, where Draco enjoyed the innocent conversation conducted by the twins. It was such a change from the mundane routine of the business world, and a whole lot more entertaining. He was surprised when Millie Apparated into the room and announced that the next applicant was due in five minutes. The hour had passed so quickly, but he consoled himself with the knowledge that he could spend the remainder of the afternoon with them, just as soon as this interview was over.

After admonishing the twins to behave and reassuring them that he would send for them soon, Draco allowed Millie to take them back to the playroom. Ginny had retrieved the file containing Mr. Conway's interview notes and application from his desk drawer. She was just passing the file to him when Ippy announced the wizard's arrival.

"Give us five minutes then show him in," Draco instructed as he moved to his desk.

Ginny watched her husband go through his transformation from relaxed and playful to the serious businessman. Again the desire to mess with his control was making her fingers itch, and again she pushed the urge to the back of her mind as she took her seat beside him. There would be time enough for that after this was over.

Draco closed the file as a knock sounded through the room. He straightened his already straight necktie and took a deep breath.

"Enter."

"Mr. Conway to see you, Master," Ippy announced.

Draco rose from his chair and intoned genuinely, "Mr. Conway, thank you for coming."

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy." The man grasped Draco's outstretched hand firmly. "Mrs. Malfoy, a pleasure to meet with you again."

"Thank you." Ginny smiled. "Please sit down."

"We have a few more questions for you and if you have any of your own, now would be the time to voice them."

"Excellent! Shall we make a start then?"

Draco smiled indulgently at the older wizard. This man was a true teacher—he was in control and determined to command the situation. Rather than being insulted by this attitude, Draco was impressed. Without further delay, he launched into the questions he had for the man and took careful note of his responses. He was happy to see that Ginny was paying attention this time and he hoped she might have some active input with this candidate.

After a good fifteen minutes of continuous conversation and discovery, Draco felt he knew enough about the man to introduce him to the children. If this man interacted well with them, then he had no problem appointing him to the position. Not that he'd let on while Conway was still in the room. It would be a matter for discussion with Ginny afterwards, but he could tell she liked the man as well.

"If you have no further questions, we'll introduce the children," Draco said when he'd exhausted his list of queries and thought the other man had asked all his questions.

"Yes, I'm very much looking forward to meeting them," Mr. Conway agreed heartily.

"Ippy, inform Millie that we're waiting for the children," Draco commanded.

The servant muttered its acknowledgement before Disapparating.

"Your idea of inviting applicants to meet the children in their own surrounds is a grand initiative," Mr. Conway commented.

"Thank you," Ginny responded. "We thought it would be best if the children were in a comfortable setting."

"Yes, their feelings are so volatile at their age. It's very important that they're at ease when meeting new people," Conway added. "I can see that you care for your children a great deal."

Ginny bristled. "Of course, I do."

"Please don't take my comment the wrong way. What I meant was, it's refreshing to see. All too often, in older, wealthy families, children are simply seen as an obligation to the family line and are not truly cherished as they should be."

"Oh... Well, thank you."

Draco observed the conversation with interest. He was on guard, ready to interject the moment things looked as though they were going wrong. If this wizard could continue to get along with Ginny then the decision had all but been made, as far as he was concerned.

"If I am to believe a grain of what certain tabloids have printed, you're very new to this parenting caper, Mr. Malfoy," Conway said cautiously.

"Less than a grain is to be believed. The fact that I have only known my children since February is, indeed, correct," Draco confirmed.

Conway nodded thoughtfully. "It must have been quite a shock to the system to be a father of two so suddenly."

"It took some adjusting," Draco conceded.

"Not to worry, every parent I've ever come across is learning something new every day."

"They don't exactly come with instruction manuals," Draco added tightly.

"It would make life very boring if they did."

A small knock at the door interrupted the conversation.

"That will be the children," Draco announced as Ginny rose and walked to the door.

Draco watched with mixed feelings as Mr. Conway rose from his chair and went to greet the twins.

"Drake Malfoy, I presume?" Conway said extending his hand to the little boy.

"Yes," Drake uttered.

"I'm Mr. Conway."

"Err—hello," Drake replied uncertainly.

"No need to be nervous, young man. I promise I've left my teacher's hat in my trunk at home."

"I'm not nervous," Drake answered as superciliously as he could.

"There's the confidence I knew was lurking behind those eyes," Mr. Conway exclaimed, before turning his gaze to Angel. "And you must be Angelique."

"Yes, I am."

"I'm very pleased to meet you, Miss Malfoy," Mr. Conway said happily as he offered his hand to the little strawberry blonde.

Angel accepted the man's hand with a smile. "I'm pleased to meet you as well, Mr. Conway."

"You have beautiful manners."

"Thank you, Mr. Conway."

The wizard smiled indulgently at the confident little witch. "Why don't we go over here and have a chat? I'd like to get to know both of you a little better, and I'm sure you'd like to know a bit more about me."

Drake looked to his parents for confirmation that this arrangement was all right with them. It wasn't what they'd done before, so he was a little perturbed when the wizard made the suggestion.

"That sounds like a lovely idea," Ginny said quietly.

Draco and Ginny watched as their children wandered over to the comfortable chairs near the unlit hearth. Mr. Conway appeared to wait until they'd both been seated before taking a chair close to them. He started by asking them what they were interested in and seemed to listen closely to their answers, encouraging them consistently to keep talking to him. The moment he won Drake over was all too obvious — he showed an avid interest in Quidditch and flying. Angel was won over easily with compliments that flowed from the wizard's tongue without a hint of perjury. At no time did the older wizard belittle anything the children told him, nor did he scoff when they exclaimed how good they were at certain things. He appeared to connect with the twins — knowing just how to respond to their various comments and observations.

After a half an hour of constant chatter, Draco approached the little gathering on the other side of the room. He was thankful that the other man took the hint without him having to do or say anything.

"Well, children, as much as I would like to stay here all afternoon and chat with you, I'm certain your parents have other plans, so it is time I took my leave," Mr. Conway announced. "It was a true pleasure to meet you both and I sincerely hope we see each other again."

Drake got to his feet and offered his hand to the wizard. "Goodbye, Mr. Conway."

"Goodbye, Master Malfoy. You keep up your flying. Remember practice makes perfect!" Mr. Conway looked to Angel, who had remained seated. "Miss Malfoy, your conversation has been most interesting."

"Thank you, Mr. Conway, it has been a pleasure," Angel said in a perfect imitation of Narcissa.

Mr. Conway smiled indulgently at the little witch and turned to Draco. "Mr. Malfoy, your children are a enchanting. Thank you very much for this opportunity."

"Thank you for attending," Draco intoned, shaking the man's hand. "We'll be making our decision in due time and will advise you of your success."

"I look forward to hearing from you." Mr. Conway dipped his head in Ginny's direction. "Mrs. Malfoy, you should be very proud."

"Thank you, I am proud of them. It was lovely to meet you again," Ginny responded warmly.

"Ippy, if you could show Mr. Conway out and return to your normal duties," Draco instructed.

"Yes, Master. Mister will come with Ippy," the house elf demanded.

Mr. Conway followed the pushy house elf from the study and left the family alone.

"Well?" Draco looked questioningly at his family.

"He was all right," Drake commented casually.

"I liked him," Angel added.

"Ginny?" Draco waited patiently for his wife's analysis of the applicant.

"He was very nice."

They had decided earlier that they wouldn't be discussing their opinions in front of the children, so Draco didn't push her any further. When the twins were otherwise occupied he would talk to her about appointing Mr. Conway. The man appeared to be perfect for the position.

"So what do you have planned for the rest of the day?" Ginny asked cautiously, fully expecting Draco to run back to the office or usher them out of his study so he can work.

"I thought Drake and I might take the brooms out for a bit," Draco answered with a grin.

"Really, Daddy?"

"Yes, mate. If it's all right with Mummy you can go and get changed into your flying gear."

"Go on," Ginny said when Drake looked pleadingly at her.

"Angel, do you want to come?" Draco asked.

The little girl shook her head. "I'm having a tea party with Grandmother."

"All right then," Draco replied. "Does Mother know she's got a visitor coming," he continued softly to Ginny.

"Yes, Narcissa said something this morning before she went out to lunch. Angel wanted to go with her, so she promised she'd could take afternoon tea with her if we had no other plans."

"Well, I have to get changed, so I'll deliver Angel to Mother on my way upstairs, if you like," Draco suggested.

"That's fine," Ginny answered.

"What are you going to do?"

"I've got a few things to take care of, so I'll be in my parlor."

"Okay. I'll let you know when we get back."

"Tell your mother if she tires of Angel she can send her to me," Ginny said.

"I will." Draco gave Ginny a lingering kiss, a kiss that held an obvious promise for later in the evening. "Come on, Angel, let's get you to your grandmother before she starts afternoon tea without you."

"Grandmother would never start before her guests arrive," Angel declared self-importantly.

"Have fun," Ginny called as they left the study. She gathered a few papers and headed off for her private parlor.

They still hadn't had a dinner to thank their attendants from their wedding, and even though she had demanded Draco's help to begin with, she had been slowly planning the evening on her own. When she realized that Draco was far too busy with work to be bothered with planning something that she was essentially responsible for she decided to make the evening her own and if it wasn't what was expected then that was just going to be too bad. It was her dinner party and as long as people had a good time then she would be happy. This afternoon provided the perfect opportunity to get a few more of the arrangements sorted out.

* * *

Draco stretched out on the floor in front of Drake's Quidditch stadium, preparing himself to concede defeat. He had only one hope of victory in this game: to catch the Snitch first. Drake had been practicing and it showed greatly. The little boy was developing into quite the tactician and was going to be a dangerous force on the Quidditch pitch when he got older.

They'd had a wonderful afternoon flying while the witches were otherwise occupied. The dining room had been full of laughter as they ate, and then Draco insisted on bathing the twins before they settled down to play some games. He was thoroughly enjoying the simple pleasures in life — his children's laughter, spending time with his family, and not worrying about the office.

"Well... well... it's all right for some, isn't it?"

The urge to curse out loud was only quashed by the fact that his children were present. Draco was so relaxed that he'd forgotten Lucius would have _business_ to discuss with him this evening. "Father?"

"It might interest you to know—"

"Stop right there," Draco said harshly. "Ginny?"

"On my way," Ginny responded with a deep sigh. "Drake, Angel, we'll give Daddy and Grandfather a little privacy."

"But we're just about—"

"No buts, Drake," Ginny said swiftly.

"We'll finish the game just as soon as I've had a word with your grandfather," Draco promised, waving his wand over the game to pause the action. He watched Ginny herd the children out of the parlor and waited until their footsteps had faded before turning back to his father. "Now I know what I did today was discourteous, but you were deliberately attempting to keep me at the office when you knew I had a scheduled appointment at home."

"For you information, I have only just arrived home. I was unable to leave due to the issue I was trying to discuss with you when you so crudely left."

"When I left there was _no_ problem. If one developed afterwards then it was one of your own making. I will _not_ shoulder the blame for something that has nothing to do with _me_."

"I did not create a problem. If you had been listening attentively you would have—"

"You don't get it, do you? No matter what happened or was happening, I wasn't in a position to stay in the office and sort it out. The education of my children is far more important."

"You could have returned to the office after the interviews."

"I chose not to."

"And as a result I had to work late."

"You call this _late_? What about the hours I had to work last week? You're hardly sneaking into your bedchamber in the dead of night to grab a couple of hours sleep before returning to the office, are you?"

"I used to do those hours. Now—"

"Now you think you have me to do those hours, but I've got news for you. I won't be neglecting my family for the office. Last week, my behavior towards my wife was inexcusable and it won't be happening again. Did you know that she thought I was having an affair? So, I don't care who I have to walk out on at the office to make it home at the hour she's expecting me."

"An affair? That preposterous!"

"Tell that to her when I'm working late _every_ night." What Hermione had told him about Ginny's mindset the week before had disturbed him more than he cared to admit. Just the thought of her thinking he'd be unfaithful made his blood run cold.

"It is necessary to put in the extra hours at times, and you are well aware of that fact."

"I am, but it is exceedingly unfair to expect one person to do _all_ the late night work."

"You've never had a problem with it before."

"I've never been married before," Draco growled, his patience all but lost. "I'm going to make this very clear: Nothing, and I repeat nothing, is going to come before my family. I don't care if the company is burning down. If my family need me, then I will be with them."

"If this is supposed to make me feel confident about handing the reigns of the company over to you—"

"It isn't, and it has nothing to do with me being in control of the company. If you don't want to hand the company over then don't do it. Work for the rest of your life. I'm quite happy in my current position."

"You know that is not an option," Lucius hissed.

Draco smirked. "Mother would be upset, wouldn't she?"

"I have made promises that you are well aware of."

"Of course, and she'd have been most upset at the thought of anything coming before her grandchildren's education." Draco paused to gauge his father's reaction. "If I had told her."

"You wouldn't."

"I will if you keep going down the path you seem to be intent on."

Lucius glared at his son with murderous anger.

"That way you'll be so worried about her you'll leave me alone." Draco smirked smugly. He had his father in a corner now, and while he knew it was a dangerous thing to do, he was enjoying every minute of it. It seemed he had a new weapon to use in situations like this: tattling on his father to his mother was nothing new, but with the addition of grandchildren his tales carried a lot more weight, which translated into a new level of pain for his father.

"It would be wise of you to reconsider your intentions."

"I didn't say I intended to tell her. I just said if you kept giving me grief I would tell her, so whether she finds out or not is entirely up to you."

"You are playing a dangerous game, son."

"I play by the rules I was taught," Draco replied evenly. "I will not back down on this, Father. So you're either going to let it go or we're at an impasse, where I'll do everything in my power to divert your attention away from me."

"Very well, but be warned; I will not tolerate the company suffering."

"It won't suffer. I simply won't be forced into working inhumane hours."

"What is to happen when it is necessary for those hours to be applied to secure a contract?"

"Once I'm fully in charge, I'm going to change a few things. The first item on my agenda is a reasonable research and preparation time between applying for a contract and closing the deal. I'm not saying the odd late night is out of the question, but I worked every night last week, plus I had to go to the office on Saturday, and that isn't fair to Ginny or the children."

"I see," Lucius drawled.

"Now if that was all, I have a game of Quidditch to lose."

Lucius' brow furrowed. "Lose?"

"I'm playing with Drake."

"It won't help him to learn the finer points of the game if you don't play to your full ability."

"I am playing properly. He's become very good."

"Well, I'll leave you to it then."

"Just one last thing, Father."

"Yes?"

"You were about to begin airing your displeasure in front of my wife and children — I won't tolerate that level of disrespect for their sensibilities."

Lucius took a step towards Draco, his temper flaring dangerously. "Your wife has no sensibilities."

"It's time you returned to your own wing," Draco snarled viciously.

Lucius curled his lip threateningly at his son and took his leave. He knew his daughter-in-law was capable of being a lady, just not in the classical sense. She was probably a lot tougher than most wizards, if he was to be completely honest, and it truly wasn't a fact that bothered him greatly. If anything her demeanor gave him less to worry about. Still it bothered his son to be reminded of such things and that was a valuable instrument in attaining the last word in a dispute.

Draco swung around, growling audibly and allowing his foot to sail into the nearest chair with force. He knew he'd played dirty, but his father had sunk to a new low. To suggest that his diatribe wouldn't have offended Ginny was disrespectful. Draco ran his hands though his hair in frustration and cursed the throbbing pain now coming from several of his toes. He needed to calm himself down before allowing his family to return to the parlor.

* * *

Ginny watched the door of the playroom constantly, waiting for any indication that the men had finished their 'discussion'. The occasional inarticulate sound floated up from the parlor, but she couldn't tell what was happening. She heard Lucius approaching before he even passed as he stormed from the southern wing. Whatever had happened in there, he obviously wasn't pleased with the outcome.

"Is Grandfather angry?" Drake asked quietly.

"I don't know, sweetheart," Ginny answered, even though it was obvious the man was not at all happy. "Why don't you two stay here for a few minutes while I talk to Daddy?"

Drake looked as though he was about to protest then changed his mind. "Okay, Mummy."

"I won't be long," Ginny assured him. "Angel, you stay here until I send for you."

"Yes, Mummy," the little girl replied, barely lifting her eyes from her dolls.

Ginny left the playroom quietly and walked to the doorway of their family parlor. She observed Draco before letting her presence be known. He was leaning on the side bar with a large tumbler of Firewhisky before him. As she watched, he downed the fiery liquid in one gulp and slammed the tumbler back onto the side bar with a growl. Their discussion had obviously not ended well.

"Draco?"

"Love, I didn't hear you come in." Draco noticed Ginny's eyes were flitting between him and the open bottle of Firewhisky in front of him. "For medicinal purposes... I needed something to dull the pain in my foot."

"Your foot? Did your father step on your toes?"

"No, no, but I rather stepped on his, metaphorically speaking. When he left I foolishly kicked a chair, and now I'm paying for my momentary lapse in sanity."

"So you stepped on his toes and then kicked the chair?"

"That about sums it up," Draco concurred. "Not that I think it's over. Father is less than happy with my refusal to see the error of my ways, so he'll try again."

"Tonight?"

"No, I shouldn't think so. He'll probably wait until tomorrow. I hope that I made myself clear that company business should be taken care of in company hours, not at home and not in front of you."

"Draco, you know that doesn't bother me."

"I know, but it bothers me. Father is a ferocious businessman, and when he gets started he really doesn't mind who is present, so that's why it's better to keep that sort of discussion at the office," Draco said seriously. "If he's polite enough to mind when my mother is in the room, then he can damn well pay you the same respect."

"Whatever you think is best," Ginny agreed quickly. The last thing she wanted to do tonight was get into an argument about what Lucius could and couldn't say in front of her. It just wasn't worth the stress. If Draco didn't want her to witness these things then she wouldn't question his decision.

"Where are Drake and Angel?" Draco asked.

"They're in their playroom. I told them to stay put when I saw your father storm past the door without so much as saying goodnight to them."

"Well, best we get them back in here, so Drake can whip my backside at Quidditch."

"I'll go tell them," Ginny offered.

"Nonsense, you'll stay here," Draco said firmly. "Millie!"

"Master did summon Millie?"

"Tell the twins to come in here. I believe they're in the playroom."

"At once, Master."

"That is how you do it," Draco claimed.

"You're lazy. It wouldn't have taken me two minutes to fetch them."

"Ah, but that would have been two minutes less for me to enjoy your company." Draco claimed her mouth firmly, expressing the desires that had been building in him since early in the afternoon. No matter what his father said or thought, Draco was going to let nothing ruin his evening with his family.

"Ewww," Drake moaned as he walked into the parlor. "Get a room!"

Draco stepped back from Ginny and looked at his five-year-old son incredulously. "What did you say?"

"Get a room," Drake repeated casually.

"Where did he hear that?" Draco asked Ginny.

"I don't know," Ginny admitted. "Drake, where did you hear that saying?"

"Uncle George told Uncle Ron and Aunt Pansy to get a room when they were snogging in Grandma's kitchen."

"I'm having a word with your brothers about their mouths," Draco growled softly.

"He's probably been saving that one up, just waiting to use it on us," Ginny whispered.

"I'm still having a word with them. It's unseemly to hear things like that coming from the mouth of a child."

"Not to mention embarrassing," Ginny teased.

Draco gave her a half-hearted filthy look before joining his cheeky son in front of the Quidditch stadium. "Don't say anything like that again, Drake."

"Why?"

"It's rude."

"So is—" Drake quickly swallowed the rest of his claim when he saw the look his father was giving him. "Uncle George said—"

"I don't care what you uncles say, you are not to emulate them in any way, shape or form. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"Good. Now are we going to finish this game?"

Drake threw his mind into comprehensively trouncing his father's team and the triumphant roar of victory was his just thirty minutes later.

Draco wasn't at all surprised by his defeat. He'd never seen his son concentrate so hard, except for when he was brewing potions, as what he did when playing his Quidditch game. The little wizard's strategies were well thought out and executed with precision. He could see, if he were ever going to win a game, he would have to put a lot more thought into how he was going to accomplish the task.

Rather than send the twins to bed, which was rather tempting given that Drake was bragging at the top of his lungs about how he attained his win, Draco ordered some hot chocolate for them and settled down with a storybook of Angel's choice. On a large sofa with one child either side of him, Draco opened the book and began to read. He couldn't make up tales like his own father had for him when he was a child, but he could indulge their desire to hear stories by reading.

The combination of a warm comforting drink and the lulling tones of their father's voice was soon making their eyelids droop. Try, as they might, neither could force themselves to stay awake while they were sitting still. Angel dropped off to sleep without much of a fight; she was way too comfortable to consider moving or otherwise doing anything to keep herself alert. Drake wriggled for a little while, but was stilled by his father's large hand resting on his head. It was the beginning of the end for the little boy, and his eyelids drifted closed, against his will, not long after.

"Draco," Ginny whispered. "They've gone to sleep."

Draco sighed softly. "So much for my captive audience."

Ginny smiled softly at him. "You lost Angel ages ago, but Drake fought hard."

"I guess I'll have to carry them upstairs," Draco responded in a whisper.

"I can—"

"No, you can't. They're too heavy for you to be carrying all that way."

"I'll take Drake first then come back for Angel. She's sound asleep, so she shouldn't wake up with all the movement."

"No, she shouldn't," Ginny murmured.

She watched as Draco gently disentangled himself from the twins' arms and legs, and got to his feet. He picked their son up as if the boy weighed no more than a feather and strode from the room. Ginny moved to sit next to Angel, just in case the little girl disturbed. Apart from the disturbance when Lucius arrived home, it had been a perfect evening. She'd not seen Draco so relaxed in a while and it made her feel much better knowing he was still capable of relaxing. Just as she was beginning to wonder if he'd forgotten about Angel, Draco wandered back into the parlor looking a little ruffled.

"What happened?"

"Drake woke up and didn't want to go back to sleep."

"Is he asleep now?"

"I hope so. I'll check him after I've put Angel to bed."

"Shall I go up and see him?"

"No, I think that's what he wants, and I've already told him you wouldn't be coming up."

"All right, but if he gets too obnoxious—"

Draco grinned. "I'll call you before I kill him."

"You do that, because I'd hate to miss out on all the fun," Ginny responded amusedly. She knew just how abominable Drake could get when he was overtired and even the most experienced in dealing with him had trouble at times like that.

"I would never deny you." Draco winked as he scooped up Angel from the sofa. The little girl was sound asleep and in no danger of waking up, no matter what her father did to her. "I'll be back soon, love."

"Would you like a cup of tea? I was going to get the servants to bring a fresh pot."

"Yeah, that would be lovely," Draco responded on his way from the room. A nightcap would have been better, but as Ginny couldn't drink he'd refrain this evening.

After ordering the fresh tea and dismissing the servant who responded, Ginny made herself comfortable on the sofa and waited for Draco to return. She was surprised when only minutes later he walked into the parlor.

"Is everything all right?"

"It's all fine."

"Drake?"

"Sound asleep again."

"Good. Did Angel wake up?"

"Nope, didn't even flutter her eyelashes."

"Excellent," Ginny replied as she poured the tea.

"What did you get up to while I was flying this afternoon?"

"Just some household things... menu planning and the things," Ginny answered easily. It wasn't exactly a lie, she was planning a menu; it just wasn't a normal, everyday menu she'd been working out.

"If that's getting too much for you I'm sure Mother wouldn't mind giving you a hand."

"It's fine. I just thought I'd get a bit done while the twins were otherwise occupied."

"Do they disturb you while you're taking care of the household duties?"

"I try to make sure they've got something to do while I'm working, so they don't," Ginny replied.

"You're sure it's not too much for you?"

"Positive."

"I worry about you. It's a big job looking after the house."

"Draco, I'm more likely to expire from boredom than overwork."

"In that case, you need to get more involved in other work then."

"Like what?"

"Mother would be able to help you there, but there's the charity work she does."

"If you call sitting around, sipping tea, with insidious women for hours charity work."

"Those garden tea parties aren't exactly the social events of the year, but they do raise a lot of money for the needy."

"Draco, I'd end up offending someone for sure."

"You'll have to get used to dealing with those women in time."

"I know. Your mother went through what would be expected of me eventually."

"You've only been given a reprieve because you're expecting."

"So if I stay pregnant I don't have to do any of that bothersome stuff?"

Draco raised an eyebrow at her quizzically.

"How many children did you say you wanted?" Ginny pressed.

"We are not having an entire Quidditch team just so you can avoid going to tea with a group of snooty women."

"You know we've never really talked about it seriously."

"About what, love?" Draco enquired innocently.

"How many kids we're going to have."

"Oh—err— Well, with this one we'll have three."

"Yes, I can count, darling."

"Don't you think that three is more than enough?" Draco felt Ginny stiffen a little next to him. "Of course, if you want more, I'm more than willing to put in the practice," he added hurriedly.

"It's just that there'll be almost six years difference between the baby and the twins."

"Yes."

"I would like to give the baby a companion... someone to play with."

"We could get a puppy or a kitten."

"Draco!" Ginny swatted him with her hand. "This is serious. It's something we should have discussed ages ago."

"Love, I'm perfectly happy with three, but—" Draco paused to phrase his words carefully. Truth be told, he wasn't that interested in having any more children. "If you want more then you can have more. I just don't want you overstretching yourself."

"What on earth do you mean?"

"Well, you're in a position where you can devote a fair amount of time to the twins, at the moment, but when the baby arrives that time is going to be lessened."

"And your point is?"

"The more children you have the less time you can devote to all of them."

"Nonsense! Draco, my mother had seven children, plus our friends that she unofficially adopted and not one of us ever wanted for her attention."

"I think you have to look at why your parents had so many children."

"What do you mean?"

"You have six older brothers and then they stopped when they finally had you. I think it's fairly obvious that they were chasing a girl."

"That isn't what happened, but even if it was, it's got nothing to do with us."

"We've already got one of each, plus we'll have another of one of them when the baby arrives."

"Don't you want any more children?"

Draco cringed mentally. Her tone was beginning to sound accusatory and that alone told him he was entering dangerous territory. "I'm happy to have more children. I just don't want to go overboard."

"What would you deem _overboard_?"

She'd already indicated that she'd like at least one more after the baby, so Draco very quickly jumped on that piece of knowledge. "Any more than four?"

"Four is fair."

"I'm glad we worked that out," Draco said, hiding the relief he felt flooding through him.

"Of course, I reserve the right to change my mind."

"Change your mind?"

Ginny nodded against his chest.

"Like not have another after this one?"

"Or have more after number four."

"One more?"

"It would have to be two more. Odd numbers are pain."

"What does odd numbers have to do with anything?"

"Draco, I'm the seventh child."

"You're talking in riddles, Ginny."

"Trust me, odd numbers aren't good."

While the inquisitive side of his brain was urging him to pursue the reason as to why odd numbers weren't good, the sensible side of his brain told him firmly to shut up, smile and nod at the appropriate times. With a promise to revisit the subject when she wasn't pregnant and acting so odd, Draco smiled at his wife. "All right, love, I trust you."

"Why are you using that tone with me?"

"What tone?" Draco asked innocently. As far as he was concerned he'd answered cautiously, but with no tone as such.

"That condescending tone."

"I didn't use any tone with you, condescending or not. I trust you and if you don't like odd numbers that's fine with me."

"Well... you should say it like you mean it then."

"I do mean it." Draco blinked a couple of times at the woman resting her head on his chest. He was trying to work out how they'd got to this point and just how much grief this was going to cause him.

"It doesn't sound like it."

"Ginny, love, you're hearing things."

"So now I'm nutters?"

"No, I didn't say that." Draco paused to take a calming breath. "Why don't we head up to our suite? A soak in the bathtub would be nice."

"I don't know if I want a bath."

"A shower then?" Draco suggested hopefully. He'd settle for anything other than continuing the conversation they were having, which he was certain was going to end up causing him insurmountable grief.

"Maybe," Ginny answered evasively.

"We could get ready for bed and just relax for a while," Draco continued, hoping he was now on track to get her moving upstairs and the subject changed for good.

"If that's what you want to do."

"Is there something you want to do?" The words were out before Draco even realized he'd opened his mouth. If she said she wanted to continue talking about having more children, he'd be sorely tempted to _Avada Kedavra_ himself right there and then — it would be less painful than anything she'd end up inflicting on him after he'd tripped over his tongue a few more times.

"Not particularly."

He didn't mean to, but an audible sigh of relief escaped him. Rather than sit there and wait to be murdered, Draco moved quickly in the hope that she hadn't registered what she heard or that a moving target would be too much trouble to track down. "Come on then, let's get upstairs."

"Are you tired?"

"A little," Draco fibbed. It was far better than admitting the truth.

After gently helping Ginny to her feet, they walked upstairs together. Before entering her own suite, Ginny insisted on checking on the twins and making certain they were tucked in properly. Draco refrained from pointing out to her that they were tucked in properly, because he'd made sure they were. Not that it would have made any difference — she still would have checked them before retiring for the evening.

Once in their bedchamber, Draco directed his wife straight to the bathroom. "So what's it going to be? A bath or a shower?"

"I think I'll just have a shower."

"All right then," Draco replied with a sly grin. His hands immediately busied themselves with ridding her of her clothing.

"I can undress myself, Draco."

"I know, but I enjoy undressing you." He kissed the tip of her nose affectionately. "Can't I have a little pleasure?"

Ginny rolled her eyes, but smiled at him. "Okay, you can undress me, but that's all."

"I promise I'll behave," Draco responded as sincerely as he could. _For now_, he added silently.

Minutes later, Ginny was in the shower and Draco walked out of the bathroom, only to walk back into the room via his own door. He stripped off quickly and entered his own shower stall. Across the room, his stunned wife stared at him and he returned the look with a cheeky grin. Even though both stalls have existed since they moved into the southern wing, they'd not used them together. Draco decided he rather liked the view from his side of the bathroom, when his wife was in her shower. He watched as Ginny finished her shower and stepped from her stall, wrapping a towel around her body. She didn't pause to dry herself before striding from the steamy bathroom. Draco smirked nefariously. He had some work to do to soothe her before he could have some of the fun he'd planned earlier, but he was sure he would be able to convince her to be a little friendlier.

Not silly enough to rush out of the bathroom and possibly into a world of trouble given his wife's precarious mood, Draco finished washing himself slowly. He hoped that giving her a bit of time to calm down would help her mood settle into something companionable.

* * *

Ginny's eyes flicked up as Draco emerged from the bathroom. He was whistling happily as he crossed the bedchamber with just a towel slung around his hips. Her eyes followed him across the room. She wanted to be irritated with the sound he was making, but the sight of him strolling across the room with just a towel hiding his bits was distracting, very distracting given she knew what lurked beneath the towel. Her tongue flicked out unconsciously and ran along her lips; she wanted so much to lick up the droplets of water glistening on his bare chest. Perhaps she could forgive him temporarily. After all, there was plenty of time to discuss the number of children they would have.

She waited patiently for him to reemerge from his dressing room. The whole time she could hear the annoying tune he was whistling. After a while she was beginning to wonder if he was still whistling, or if the noise was just playing in her head now. When he walked back into the bedchamber, he was clad in just a pair of black silk boxers. It was a sight that made her stomach flutter with anticipation, and the decision to forgive him temporarily was made in an instant.

Her eyes followed Draco around to his side of their bed, where he fastidiously turned the covers down. She couldn't resist following him around and snaking her arms around him, so her palms were caressing his chest.

"Are you ready to go to bed?" she purred.

"Not quite." Draco carefully removed her hands from his chest and stepped out of her reach. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate the feel of her hands on his body, quite the contrary actually, but he wanted to be certain of her mood before exposing his most delicate parts. "I was just getting the bed ready, but if you want to go to bed, don't let me stop you."

She reached out and trailed a single finger down his chest. "I'm not sleepy."

"Would you like to read for a while? Or we could play a game of Wizard Chess, if you'd like?"

"Umm—" Ginny bit her lip and looked at her husband coquettishly. "No, I don't think so."

Draco swallowed the chuckle wanting to burst forth. If he'd let that out, he had no doubt she'd have reverted into the cranky Hippogriff he'd been dealing with for part of the evening. "No? Well, what are we going to do to tire you out?"

"I have an idea," Ginny purred, stepping forward and tugging playfully at the waistband of his boxers.

He couldn't stop the smirk that tugged at his mouth. It seemed she was going play nicely for the time being. All he had to do was be careful not to upset her in any way, shape or form, because the thought of her turning into a hellcat when he was vulnerable wasn't terribly inviting. "Oh, you do, do you?"

"Yes," Ginny murmured as her lips made tantalizing contact with his chest. "Isn't this likely to be more entertaining than Wizard Chess?"

"I'm sure it will be." Draco shuddered as her hand ran over the satin of his boxers, gently caressing his member. "I think we should move this into the bed, don't you?"

"Not just yet," Ginny responded, sliding down his body to her knees.

* * *

Draco woke up slowly with a body draped across his chest. With a contented smile, he reached down to hold her closer. A deep frown puckered his forehead. Unless Ginny had shrunk sometime during the night, something wasn't quite right. His eyes opened and he glanced down at the person draped across him. It definitely wasn't Ginny. It was Angel. When she'd climbed into bed with them was a complete mystery to him, but she was there now and he was not exactly dressed for company, other than his wife's, in bed.

With a level of care that he'd never exercised before, Draco tried to extract himself from the bed. The last thing he wanted was to wake her up when he was sans clothes. He had just begun to seriously move away when a little head rose from his chest.

"Daddy, where are you going?"

"Shh, princess, I have to go to work," Draco whispered. "Close your eyes and go back to sleep."

"I don't want you to go to work."

"I have to, but I'll be home early," Draco promised, praying to the deities that she'd close her eyes so he could get out of bed. "Close your eyes and cuddle Mummy."

The sleepy little witch allowed her eyes to slip closed and Draco breathed a sigh of relief. He carefully extracted himself from the covers and stood up, looking around for something to hide his state of undress.

"Daddy, why don't you have any pajamas on?"

Draco grasped at the first thing that came to hand: Ginny's nightgown. "Go back to sleep," he hissed.

"But why did you sleep in the rude?"

"Angel, I don't have time for this."

"I was just asking." Angel blinked at him innocently.

"Why aren't you in your own bed?"

Her expression darkened immediately. "I had a bad dream."

Draco sighed and ran his free hand through his hair. "All right, just go back to sleep before you wake Mummy up."

"Does Mummy have pajamas on?"

"If you wake Mummy up, she'll send you back to your own room," Draco threatened. "Go to sleep."

Angel's eyes filled with tears straight away. "I can't go back... it's scary."

"Bloody hell," Draco cursed under his breath. "Don't cry, Angel. I didn't say you had to, but if you wake Mummy up she won't be happy with you."

"I—I can't—it's scary an—and—"

"Angel, don't cry," Draco pleaded. He knelt by the bed and tried to comfort her as best he could. At least in that position his nakedness was hidden from her view. If he thought she'd not wake Ginny up, he'd leave her to get some clothes on, but he had the feeling that her volume would rise the moment he mentioned leaving her sight.

The little girl sobbed into her father's bare shoulder for several minutes while he made the appropriate soothing sounds and intermittently pleaded with her to stop crying.

"I have an idea," Draco started in a whisper. "Why don't you come down and have breakfast with me? Would you like that?"

Angel nodded against his shoulder.

"Okay, you go put your bathrobe and slippers on, and I'll meet you in my sitting room in five minutes."

"Millie can get them."

"All right, but go to my sitting room, or Millie might wake Mummy up and we don't want to do that."

Angel sniffed affectedly. "Okay, Daddy."

Draco breathed a sigh of relief as his little girl scrambled out of bed and headed for the sitting room.

"Are you going to put some clothes on? 'Cause Grandmother would be cross if you went to breakfast in the rude."

"Yes, Angel, I'm going to get dressed."

As soon as she was through the door, Draco rose from his position and all but ran to his dressing room. After dressing quickly, he crossed to the bathroom. On the way, he could hear Angel ordering Millie to return to her suite and bring the bathrobe that matched her pajamas. The fact that the servant had apparently brought the wrong robe gave him a little breathing space. Though he completed his morning routine in record time and forewent a desperately wanted shower, Draco stepped out of the bathroom looking immaculate.

He tiptoed around to Ginny's side of the bed and placed a light kiss on her forehead, as he did every morning before he left. When her mouth twitched, he paused.

"Are you awake?"

"You handled Angel well," Ginny responded amusedly.

"You were awake for that?"

"How could I sleep with you two nattering away in my ear?"

"Thanks for helping me."

"And get accused of sleeping in the rude? Not likely."

"I should send her back in here just to punish you for letting me deal with that."

"Do you really want to do that? She could tell Drake, and then what do you think will happen?"

Draco looked at his wife with disbelief. She may have been a Gryffindor, but she didn't mind playing dirty. "I'm going to have some breakfast and then I'm going to work."

"Have a nice day," Ginny whispered. "I'll see you around dinnertime?"

"Yes, I should be home around then. I'll let you know if I'm going to be later."

"All right."

"Daddy, are you coming?" Angel asked from the doorway.

"Yes, princess. I'm on my way," Draco responded. He looked back at his bed and noticed his wife already appeared to be asleep again. Yes, there were times when he seriously thought the Sorting Hat got it wrong with her — she should have been a Slytherin.

Draco and Angel began their walk to the dining room. Angel was completely happy now that she had her preferred robe. Draco was silently cursing his sly wife. If her moods weren't so volatile at the moment, he'd have considered planning some sort of retribution, but as it was he wasn't foolish enough or courageous enough to tempt the fates.

"Grandfather!" Angel shrieked when she spied Lucius sitting at the head of the table.

Draco sighed heavily. Habit had brought him to this dining room. He and Lucius often had breakfast together, to save eating alone and it also gave them the opportunity to discuss certain things without the worry that the office staff would overhear. After last night, the last thing he wanted to do was start the day with another disagreement.

"Angelique, what are you doing up so early?" Lucius asked, exchanging nods with his son as a form of acknowledging each other.

"I had a bad dream and I went to sleep with Daddy, and Daddy woke me up when he was getting out of bed."

Lucius looked at his son quizzically. "Draco, surely you could have slipped out of bed without waking anyone."

"I usually do, but when a certain somebody is sleeping on my chest it's a little difficult."

"I see," Lucius drawled. "Are you feeling better now, Angelique?"

Angel nodded and smiled brightly. "Did you know that Daddy doesn't have any pajamas?"

Lucius frowned, a little confused by his granddaughter's comment. "I'm certain you father owns pajamas."

"He doesn't wear them." Angel shook her head sadly. "He doesn't wear anything."

"Angel, you don't have to share—" Draco started.

"He sleeps in the rude," Angel whispered across the table, ignoring her father.

Lucius couldn't hide the amused smirk creeping on his face. He looked at his son questioningly, enjoying his level of discomfort.

Draco didn't bother to comment. He could see his father didn't require a full explanation.

"Shall we eat breakfast?" Lucius said casually.

"I want—"

"Bacon?" Draco suggested quickly. "You need to eat quickly, because your grandfather and I need to go to work."

"Why?" Angel blinked at her father innocently. "I'm not going to work."

"Angel, I don't want to leave you at the table alone, so you have to eat up."

"You aren't going to wait for Ginevra to rise, are you?"

"No, Father," Draco responded with exaggerated patience. "Once we've eaten, Millie can keep Angel company until Ginny wakes."

"Good," Lucius responded. "How long are you going to be at the office today?"

"The whole day, but I intend on being home in time to have dinner with my family."

"I see," Lucius drawled.

"You obviously don't agree."

"Quite the contrary," Lucius responded. "I think it's wonderful that you are able to spend time with your young family."

Though the conversation seemed perfectly civilized Draco could hear the 'but' lurking behind his father's words. The last thing he wanted was for this tête-à-tête to dissolve into a nasty dispute in front of Angel. "I think it's far better that we continue this conversation at the office."

"Very well." Lucius masked his mild shock appropriately before turning his mercurial gaze on his granddaughter. "Did you like any of the tutors you met yesterday, Angelique?"

"One man was nice," Angel answered vaguely.

"Just one?"

Angel nodded. "The other man was horrible."

"Both candidates were well qualified, but one did present better than the other," Draco added.

"You should be aware that some people don't interview well. The best candidate shouldn't be disregarded simply over a case of nerves."

"The gentleman concerned wasn't nervous. He simple didn't present himself as a human with an understanding of what five-year-olds were about."

"Old educators are often a little harsh," Lucius commented. "Just look at Severus."

Draco snorted. Even as a younger professor, Severus Snape hadn't presented as possessing a compassionate bone in his body. "Ginny isn't comfortable with someone who is less than human."

"What if that person is the best candidate?"

"On the face of his interview, he definitely isn't the right person for the job."

"Rather dangerous ways to choose the person you're entrusting to educate your children."

"I think not," Draco responded evenly.

"Well, it is your decision."

"Yes, it is," Draco confirmed strongly. He hoped it would be the end of the conversation. After last night, his father was obviously in a picky mood and he didn't appreciate the subtle needling he was practicing.

Thankful that Lucius had turned his attention solely to Angel, Draco ate the rest of his breakfast in peace. He would have enough of a hard time dealing with his father at work and didn't really want to get into their issues at home where little ears could overhear. It amazed him at how easily his daughter extracted promises from her grandfather. She certainly had a tight hold on his heart — tighter than even he'd had at that age.

When they'd finished eating, Draco escorted Angel back to the southern wing and left her in Millie's competent hands. The thought of spending the entire day at the office with his father's discontent mood wasn't appealing, but he had no choice. With last hug from his daughter for strength, Draco left for the office.

* * *

On Thursday afternoon, Draco Apparated into the foyer of the Manor, relieved to be away from the office for a while. He'd managed to get away an hour earlier than expected, so he hoped to go over the interview notes quite well before the first applicant arrived and relax a little. Yesterday had been hellish at the office and it really shouldn't have been. It was all due to his father's mood and his incontestable desire to take it all out on Draco. Still, he was home now and he didn't have to think about work until tomorrow morning — just applicants for the position of tutor.

"Daddy!"

Draco looked up to see his son thundering down the staircase towards him. Unable to resist Draco strode to meet him with his arms outstretched, ready to catch Drake when he leapt into the air. The little boy didn't disappoint him. When he reached the fourth step from the bottom, Drake launched himself into the air and directly into his father's arms.

"You're home early! Mummy said you weren't coming yet."

"I snuck out," Draco whispered in fun.

Drake gasped and stared at his father with wide eyes. "Grandfather won't be cross with you again, will he?"

Draco shrugged casually. "I don't care if he is cross with me."

The little boy giggled.

"Where is Mummy?"

"She's upstairs helping Angel get dressed to meet more tutors," Drake responded with a bored tone.

"You're not too impressed with this whole business are you?"

Drake shook his head despondently. "Mummy said I just have to be polite and get through it, so we could choose a tutor."

"That is true," Draco affirmed. "It is boring business, but we want to give you two a say in who gets the position seeing as you'll be spending so much time with them."

"Yeah, but why can't Mummy teach us? Like Aunt Fleur teaches Beau."

Draco sighed. It wasn't bad enough that he'd had to convince Ginny that this was the right thing to do for everyone, but now he was stuck explaining the decision to his son. He placed Drake on his feet and sat down on the staircase. "Listen, mate, Mummy has different things she'll need to be doing. They're things that your Aunt Fleur doesn't need to do."

"What does Mummy have to do?"

"Well, do you know what your grandmother does all day?"

"She goes out and drinks a lot of tea with her friends."

"Yes, she does, but that's not all just socializing. Some of those tea parties are very important meetings that the women use to raise money for people less fortunate than us."

"Why doesn't Aunt Fleur have to do that stuff then?"

"Well... you see we're obligated to do what we can, because we're better off than most."

"Uncle Bill and Aunt Fleur are off pretty well," Drake commented.

"They are, but they don't have the same level of wealth that we do."

Drake frowned deeply. "I don't understand."

"Okay, let's see if I can put this in a way you can understand." Draco thought for a moment. "What sort of broomstick does Beau have?"

"Sometimes Uncle Bill lets him ride one of his old ones when Aunt Fleur isn't looking."

"Right, and what sort of broomstick do you have?"

"A _Lightning Bolt 5000_," Drake answered with pride.

"Do you know why that is?"

"Because Aunt Fleur won't let Beau have his own broomstick."

"No, it's because I can afford to give you the best."

"Oh."

"That's why Mummy will eventually have to help your grandmother with the charity work she does and she won't have time to teach you. You see the charity work our women do is a bit like a job."

"I get it now!" Drake exclaimed brightly. "Grandmother's job is to drink loads of tea with other old ladies, and Mummy is going to have to do that when she gets old too."

"Well—it's—err—"

"I would be extremely careful how you answer that."

Draco's head snapped up. The first thought to cross his mind was just how much had she overheard, and the second was how painful she would make his death. Of course, the second depended on the answer to the first. "Mother, I was just trying to explain to Drake why Ginny doesn't have time to teach him."

"I see," Narcissa answered reticently.

"Mummy has to drink tea with you and all the other old ladies." Drake nodded solemnly to confirm his words.

Draco watched as his mother's eyes widened ever so slightly before narrowing on him. "Old?"

"Not my words, Mother," Draco answered quickly. "Drake drew his own conclusions."

"I can see you didn't think to adjust his inference," Narcissa countered haughtily.

"You interrupted before I could correct his perception."

"Oh? And how would you have done that?"

Draco rose gracefully from the step and walked slowly towards his mother. "I would have explained, quite strongly, that the other women are old and cranky, but you could never be described that way, considering your youthful appearance and everlasting beauty."

Narcissa arched one of her perfect eyebrows and regarded her son with an appraising gaze. She had taught him well, and even though he tripped over his tongue occasionally, he always made amends with charm and sincerity. Her hand drifted up to stroke his cheek. "I will consider forgiving you for not making that clear in the first place."

"Mother, what will it take to win back your favor?"

A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. He was playing right into her hand, like he always did. "You could make amends with your father."

Draco stiffened. "It is Father who is in the wrong this time. He can make the effort for a change."

"Darling, he is set in his ways. Go to him and apologize."

"Apologize for what? I've done nothing wrong."

"He doesn't see it that way."

"I am aware of that."

"If you make the effort he will let the issue go, but until you do—"

"I'm sorry, Mother, but I will not be apologizing."

"Is it not worth it for the sake of peace?"

"Father needs to accept when he is in the wrong, and if I apologize he will conclude that he was right all along."

"Then if not for the sake of harmony, do it for me."

"I can't." Draco's stomach lurched uncomfortably when his mother looked crestfallen. "I'm sorry, Mother, I really am, but I won't do it this time."

Narcissa nodded calmly and moved away. Before beginning her ascent of the staircase, she kissed Drake lightly on the cheek.

Draco remained where he was, feeling dreadful for disappointing his mother. He could make amends with his father, but he was right and he wanted his father to acknowledge that fact. Why Lucius couldn't concede that Ginny and the children should come first was beyond Draco. Given time, Draco knew things would simply return to normal without anyone giving in or admitting fault. It wasn't the perfect scenario, but it was the best he'd get from his father.

"Draco, is everything all right?"

"Ginny, love, yes everything is fine."

"Then why did your mother try to hide the tears on her cheeks?"

"She's crying?"

"Yes."

"Bloody buggering hell," Draco cursed aloud and continued muttering a few more expletives under his breath. "I have to go see her... make this right."

"Slow down. What happened?"

"She asked me to make amends with Father and I refused."

"Oh."

"Look I won't be long. I'll just see if she's all right."

"You've got about a half an hour," Ginny reminded him.

"Yeah, it's all right. I'll do what I can and I'll meet you in my study before the first applicant arrives."

"Okay, but please don't be late," Ginny pleaded.

"I promise." Draco kissed her cheek. "Who is our first interview?"

"Mr. Merrythought."

"All right, I'll get this done and be right down."

Ginny watched her husband bound up the stairs. She could tell his mother's upset was causing him grief. All she could do was hope he was able to placate Narcissa and get down to his study in time.

"Come on, Drake, I'll walk you to the playroom."

"Okay, Mummy." Drake took his mother's outstretched hand. "Is Grandmother all right?"

"Yes, darling, she's just a bit upset with Daddy and Grandfather at the moment."

Drake walked silently for a while. "Maybe I should go and have tea with her."

"Why, sweetheart?"

"She's always happy when she's drinking tea."

Ginny smiled at her son's simplistic view of fixing the problem. The truth was that Narcissa would be cheered if he made the effort. "Perhaps you can visit your grandmother after we're finished."

"Why can't I go now?"

"We have to get through these interviews first."

"They're boring."

"Maybe so, but your grandmother would agree with how important they are."

"She'd still rather I was drinking tea with her," Drake mumbled.

Ginny didn't bother to respond. She knew her son well enough to know that he was simply putting up a token protest that would amount to nothing if she let him vent his feelings without comment.

"What are you going to do while you wait?" Ginny asked nonchalantly as they approached the playroom.

"Play," Drake answered evasively.

"I see."

When they entered the playroom, Drake went directly to the bookcase and retrieved his coloring book of magical creatures, along with his box of crayons, and then seated himself at the small table where he and Angel often did quieter activities. Ginny watched him carefully. He obviously wasn't in the mood to chat, so she left him to his own thoughts. She was starting to notice how much he cared for his grandmother more and more. It was just little things, of course, but they were certainly present — like now, when Narcissa was upset and he wanted to have tea with her to cheer her up.

Ginny sat on the sofa and waited patiently for Millie to arrive with Angel. Mere minutes had passed when she heard her daughter coming down the corridor, fussing about something very loudly.

"Mummy, Millie said I have to wear this!" Angel tugged at the pretty blue dress with princess collar she was wearing as she entered the room.

"That is what I set out for you to wear," Ginny replied calmly.

"But I wanted to wear my purple dress with the—"

"Angel, you have to learn how to dress appropriately for the occasion." Ginny paused for a moment, realizing just how much she sounded like her mother-in-law. "Where do you think Grandmother would wear a dress that beautiful?"

Angel sniffed affectedly and lifted her chin haughtily. "To tea."

"No, she'd wear it to dinner when she had guests."

The little girl's expression faltered a little. "I want to wear it today! I am meeting guests."

"Yes, but it's not evening and we're not having dinner with them."

"I don't care."

"Angel, you'll wear what you have on and not give Millie any more grief over it," Ginny instructed sternly, her good humor beginning to run low. "Perhaps you'll have an opportunity to wear the other dress soon."

Angel flopped down onto an overstuffed chair with her arms folded across her chest and a sulky expression on her face.

"You can brood all you like, it won't change things. Both of you behave for Millie and we'll send for you when it's time." Ginny turned to the aging servant standing near the door. "Millie, make sure Drake doesn't leave the room. He wants to visit with his grandmother, so he may try to leave once I'm gone."

"Yes, Mistress."

Ginny made her way quickly to Draco's study, hoping all the way that he'd already be there. When she arrived she was most disappointed to see the room empty. There was still time for him to make it, so she wasn't panicking just yet. Instead she rounded his desk and retrieved the file from his drawer, setting it in the middle of his desk. With nothing left to do but wait, Ginny settled herself in Draco's massive leather chair. She'd always thought his chair was ostentatious, but upon getting herself comfortable she could understand why he liked the chair. It seemed to cradle every inch of her body, like no other chair she'd ever sat on. More for something to do than anything else, Ginny opened the file in front of her and began to read the notes from the expected wizard's first interview. The ticking clock on the mantle reminded her constantly that time was slipping away.

A deep pop disturbed her from her thoughts and she raised her head expecting to Draco in the room. Disappointment, tinged with a small flutter of panic, filled her when she saw Ippy bowing close to the floor.

"Mr. Merrythought has arrived."

"Right—umm—" Ginny pushed aside her panic and forced herself to think logically. "Show Mr. Merrythought to one of the greeting parlors and tell him we won't be long, then find Draco and tell him that the gentleman has arrived."

"As Mistress wishes," Ippy responded.

"Just hurry." Ginny expelled a lungful of air when the servant disappeared. She did understand why Draco felt he had to go to his mother when she was so upset, but at the moment she was kicking herself for even mentioning that the other woman was upset.

The list of questions they were asking in this second interview were in the front of the file, and she could conduct the interview on her own, but she knew Draco wanted to be here to form his own opinion. All she could do was hope that he hurried up. Seconds began to feel like minutes and the urge to shut the clock on the mantle up was beginning to make her wand hand twitch.

"Ginny, I'm sorry, love," Draco blurted as he Apparated into the room. "Ippy said the candidate has arrived."

"Yes, I had Ippy show him to one of the greeting parlors until you arrived." Ginny regarded her husband quietly for a moment. He looked harassed more than anything at the moment. "Is everything all right with your mother?"

"Probably not, but there's little I can do about it now." Draco looked around the room, seemingly searching for something. "Ippy!"

"Master did summon Ippy?"

"Give us five minutes then show Mr. Merrythought in."

"Yes, Master."

When the servant Disapparated, Draco moved around to his chair, bringing a visitors chair with him. For a moment or two Ginny thought he may allow her to remain where she was, but he waited with barely concealed impatience for her to move into the visitors chair next to his comfortable chair. Without another word he sat down and started scanning the file in front of him, refreshing his memory of this particular candidate.

The five minutes he'd requested from Ippy was gone before he was ready. When a knock sounded at the door, Draco had no choice but to admit entry to the wizard.

Ginny's first impression of the man was that he was somewhat peeved and doing a terrible job of hiding his expression. When Draco spoke she knew he'd noticed, but his tone showed he wasn't concerned with the other man's feelings.

"Mr. Merrythought, my apologies for keeping you waiting," Draco intoned impassively. "Please take a seat."

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy."

"There is something I've been wanting to ask you, if you don't mind."

"Go ahead."

"Your name rang a bell with me and I was wondering if you were related to Professor Merrythought who taught at Hogwarts some years ago."

"Yes, Professor Merrythought is my uncle," the wizard admitted. "He is, of course, retired now."

"Of course." Draco smiled across the desk. "We're going to start with a few more questions, and then the children will join us."

"Very well."

As Draco launched into his questions Ginny watched the other man intently. He hadn't so much as nodded in her direction and that was not helping her opinion of him at all. It didn't matter if he was the most qualified person in the world if he was rude enough to ignore her presence entirely. Even when she moved to open the door for the twins Merrythought didn't give her a second glance.

Ginny's attention didn't wane the entire time her children were in the room. Given their earlier moods were a little unstable she didn't want anything untoward to happen. The wizard seemed to be paying a lot more attention to Drake than what he was to Angel. It was something that didn't go unnoticed by the little witch either. By the time Draco called an end to the interview Ginny was fit to burst with indignation.

The door had hardly closed behind the wizard when Ginny turned her attention to her husband. "What a chauv—"

Draco held his hands up as if in surrender. "You don't need to say it, love. I did notice."

"There's no way—"

"We'll discuss it later," Draco said evenly. There was no way that wizard was going to be appointed the position or even seriously considered, but he wasn't going to expound on his thoughts in front of the children. It didn't matter to Draco that he'd kept the man waiting; it was not an excuse for his attitude towards Ginny and Angel.

"Would you like some tea?"

"I might duck up and check on Mother," Draco responded quietly.

Ginny moaned silently. She wasn't surprised that he wanted to check on Narcissa again, but given the delay last time she didn't feel comfortable with him leaving right now. "We only have about twenty minutes. There's not really enough time to check on her, Draco."

"I can make—" Draco stopped when he saw his wife's expression. It wasn't exactly foreboding, but it had the potential to get there quickly. "I'll check on her after this next interview."

"Thank you."

"A cup of tea would be nice," Draco continued in an effort to get his wife to adopt a friendlier expression.

"Millie, bring a tea tray and some pumpkin juice for the twins."

"Yes, Mistress."

The family had only just settled around the empty hearth when Millie appeared with the tea tray. They drank their tea and pumpkin juice in relative silence, each seemingly lost in their own thoughts. As soon as the twins finished their drinks Ginny sent them back to the playroom with Millie. She knew time was growing short and didn't want to rush them when the time came to return to the playroom.

The moment he had bid goodbye to the children Draco went back to his desk, taking his teacup with him. He retrieved the second file from the drawer and began to peruse the contents straight away. There were more notes in this file than any of the others, given he had met with the applicants current employer to gauge the man's genuine feelings about the woman.

Ginny had the tea tray removed and moved to her chair beside Draco. She'd only just perched herself on the seat when Ippy appeared near the doorway.

"Miss Sheenan is requesting an audience with Master."

"Show the applicant in," Draco responded absently, not bothering to raise his eyes from the file.

"I'm looking forward to meeting with Clare again," Ginny commented eagerly.

"Mmm," Draco grunted.

"I really enjoyed her energy last time we met," Ginny continued, despite her husband's less than human response.

"Mmm."

"Why don't you just nod and smile in all the right places?"

"Mmm."

"Draco, are you even listening to me?"

"Uh huh."

"I want to paint the outside of the manor flamingo pink. What do you think?"

"Sounds great, love," Draco muttered.

Ginny growled lowly and slapped his arm.

Draco looked at her, clearly affronted. "What?"

"Do you realize you just agreed to let me paint the exterior of the manor bright pink?"

"I did not!"

"Yes you did. You told me that it sounded great."

"Ginny, I'm trying to read."

"I was trying to talk to you about Clare."

"I'm sorry, love, I'm accustomed to having a few minutes before a meeting to prepare on my own," Draco explained. "My staff knows better than to disturb me."

"I'm not your staff," Ginny ground out.

"I didn't mean you were or even had to follow the same form, love. I'm just not accustomed to having meaningful discussions minutes before a meeting and as such I was focused on the file in front of me," Draco clarified in what he hoped would be interpreted as a sincere tone.

"Okay," Ginny responded dully. "Have you finished?"

Draco cringed. "Not quite."

"Fine, read your notes."

"Gin, don't be like that." Draco reached across had grabbed her hand. "It's important that we're as prepared as we can be when meeting with someone."

A strong knock at the door interrupted their conversation.

"Are you ready?" Draco asked, wishing he knew for certain that he'd successfully made amends.

"Yes, are you?"

"I'll manage." He winked cheekily at her and gave her hand a squeeze, before removing his. "Enter."

"Miss Sheehan to see Master and Mistress," Ippy announced.

"Miss Sheehan, come in please," Draco intoned politely.

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. It's such a pleasure to see you again," Miss Sheehan gushed as she crossed the room. "Mrs. Malfoy, you have a wonderful home! It's so big."

"Thank you." Ginny smiled warmly at the woman. "Please take a seat."

"We have a few questions to get through before the children join us," Draco explained.

"Yes, of course. I'm an open book, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco hid the amused smirk wanting to show itself. He couldn't discredit her enthusiasm. "I met with you current employer last week."

"Yes, Mr. Maddock told me he had lunch with you."

"He spoke very highly of you."

Clare Sheehan blushed lightly at the compliment.

"I think we'll get started," Draco said.

He started moving his way down the list of questions, noting the woman's answers and attitude. She appeared to be a little hesitant in some of her answers, but overall she was bubbly and eager to please. Even though he felt that the decision had already been made, Draco was enjoying this woman's liveliness. She would certainly get along with the children, but he wondered if she had the strength to conduct a disciplined classroom.

"If you're ready we'll send for the children," Draco offered.

"Oh yes, I'm looking forward to meeting them very much."

After sending for the twins Draco allowed the two women to natter for a short while. He took it as an opportunity to observe the woman on a different level. Just one thing bothered him in the time they were interacting: she seemed to treat Ginny like some long lost friend rather than a potential employer.

As soon as Ginny rose to answer the knock on the door announcing the twins' arrival, Miss Sheehan was on her feet as well. She hovered very close to Ginny's shoulder as the children entered and her face lit up brightly when they came into sight.

"Hello there! You must be Drake and Angel," Miss Sheehan said cheerfully. "I'm Clare Sheehan."

"Hello," Angel replied with a smile.

"Hello, Miss—Mrs.—umm—"

"I'm a Miss Sheehan, Drake."

"Oh, hello, Miss Sheehan."

Clare smiled brilliantly. "Would you like to have a chat?"

Angel nodded excitedly.

"Lovely! Why don't we sit down somewhere comfortable and we can get to know each other?"

"We can sit over there," Drake offered, pointing to his father's comfortable chairs near the fire.

"Wonderful! Why don't you lead the way?"

Drake drew himself to full height and led the witches across to the chairs. He waited, like a true gentleman, until both witches were seated then took a seat himself.

Ginny returned to Draco to observe Clare's interaction with the children. She was very encouraging to both of them and before long there was laughter filling the room. Drake and Angel appeared to get along with her extremely well. Both children were completely relaxed and very open with the woman. When Draco decided it was time to bring the interview to an end Ginny noticed that the twins seemed a little crestfallen.

"Thank you so much for allowing me to meet your wonderful children," Clare said sincerely. "They are both so beautiful and so well mannered. You're very lucky."

"Thank you, Miss Sheehan," Ginny responded, accepting the compliments gracefully.

"Thank you for attending. We will be making our decision shortly and will advise you of our decision in due course," Draco advised. "Ippy, you can show Miss Sheehan out."

"Yes, Master," the house elf responded as it started ushering the woman towards the door.

"She was nice!" Drake exclaimed.

"Yes, she was, darling," Ginny agreed, pleased that her little boy had given his opinion so forcefully.

"I might go and check on Mother," Draco whispered to Ginny.

"All right."

"I won't be long. I want to discuss the applicants while everything is still fresh in our minds."

"I'll be here," Ginny responded, not believing he'd be back any time soon.

Draco kissed her cheek and left the room quickly.

"Where's Daddy going?" Drake asked quizzically.

"Just to check on your grandmother," Ginny replied casually.

"Can I go and drink tea with Grandmother?" Drake asked.

"Not just yet, darling. Let Daddy make sure she's all right first, then later you can go and have some tea with her."

"Okay," Drake mumbled, not pleased at his mother's response, but knowing it was pointless to argue.

Angel frowned deeply. "What's wrong with Grandmother?"

"She was crying," Drake informed his sister.

"Why?"

"'Cause Daddy wouldn't do something for her."

The little strawberry blonde gasped loudly. "What a naughty boy!"

Ginny had to smother a snort of laughter. If Angel remembered to chastise her father for his 'disobedience' it was going to be quite amusing; she just hoped she was there to see the expression on his face. "Why don't we have some afternoon tea while we're waiting for Daddy to return?"

Drake looked at his mother with disbelief. "I'm having afternoon tea with Grandmother!"

"Oh— You can have afternoon tea with us as well, honey," Ginny offered quickly. She didn't want to mention that Narcissa may not want afternoon tea or could have quite conceivably already had afternoon tea.

"Can we have Grandmother's little pastry things?" Drake asked, suddenly agreeable.

"I'll see if we've got any." Ginny summoned a servant and ordered afternoon tea be served in the study, making certain she asked about the French pastries Narcissa favored.

Ginny ushered the children over to the armchairs around the hearth. She hoped Draco wouldn't be long, but she knew he'd take as long as he needed to so that his own mind was at ease. Men were decidedly strange creatures when it came to their mothers. Her brothers were really no different. Granted they didn't fuss as much as Draco, but if they thought they'd upset Molly they would try to put things right in their own clumsy way.

Angel nattered about Miss Sheehan all the way through afternoon tea. Ginny answered her questions vaguely, but the little witch didn't seem to notice she wasn't getting the full attention of her mother. Drake was withdrawn, as he often was when something wasn't quite right with his family and he wasn't happy.

About an hour later Draco returned to his family. Given his dark expression, Ginny immediately rose from her chair and met him at his desk, knowing it would be better if the children didn't hear any more than necessary about the problems with their grandparents. At this point she wished he would just do whatever was necessary to put an end to the nonsense, but she did understand why he was so reluctant to apologize to his father when he'd done nothing more than put his family first.

* * *

Drake watched his parents talk in hushed tones. His dad didn't look terribly happy, so the little boy decided that Grandmother must have still been crying. Without alerting anyone, he silently wandered over to the door and slipped out of the room.

When he reached the staircase Drake summoned Millie and enquired as to the whereabouts of his grandmother. With that information in hand, the little wizard continued on his way.

Drake slipped into his grandmother's personal parlor silently. He knew he wasn't really allowed in this room, but he was desperate to make her feel better.

Narcissa was sitting on the window seat, gazing out into the gardens.

"Grandmother," Drake whispered.

"Darling, what are you doing here?" Narcissa asked as she turned.

"I came to drink tea with you."

Narcissa's forehead creased a little in confusion. "That's lovely."

"You always smile when you drink tea, so that's why I came," Drake explained in a small voice.

"Oh, darling, how very sweet of you." Narcissa's blue eyes welled with tears. "Come here, sweetheart."

Drake wandered over to the window seat. His eyes were trying to take in everything in the room at once.

Narcissa gathered the little boy in her arms and held him tight. Tears were gliding unchecked down her face while she muttered into his blond hair about Drake being the sweetest little boy ever.

Upon hearing a distinctly wet sniff from the top of his head Drake drew away just a little. "You weren't supposed to cry," he whispered nervously.

"I'm all right, darling. I'm only crying because you've made me so happy."

Drake frowned deeply. "You don't cry when you're happy."

"Well sometimes you do if you're very, very happy."

"That's silly," Drake mumbled.

"Yes, darling, it is silly." Narcissa laughed delicately. "Now, shall we order some tea?"

Drake nodded emphatically. "And some treats. They make me smile, so they'll make you smile."

"Of course, we'll order treats."

After placing their order with a servant, Narcissa and Drake moved over to the wingback chairs surrounding the fireplace. Drake's manners had never been so perfect; he was putting into practice everything Narcissa had ever taught him about propriety.

"Mother!" Draco burst through the door glaring harshly at his son. "I am sorry for the intrusion. Drake, you should have waited until—"

"The only intrusion in this room was caused by you, Draco," Narcissa cut him off haughtily. "Now if you don't mind, I am having tea with my grandson."

Draco surveyed the scene cautiously before retreating from the room with a mumbled apology.

"Now, would you care for a pastry," Narcissa offered her grandson.

* * *

Ginny looked up as Draco entered his study. Again he didn't look happy. "What happened? Where's Drake?"

"Your son is having tea with my mother," Draco responded tetchily.

"My son?" Ginny arched her eyebrows at him questioningly. "It sounds more like something his father would do."

Draco muttered something unintelligible.

"Are we going to discuss the applicants?"

"We have Angelique," Draco pointed out.

"I'm sure Angel would be happy to go to the playroom," Ginny countered.

"No, it's all right, we'll talk later," Draco huffed.

"Fine," Ginny answered in a clipped tone.

He ignored his wife's tone and turned to his daughter. "Angel, would you like to go riding?"

"Oh yes!"

"Go change your clothes and we'll take the horses out."

The squeal the little girl let loose as she ran from the room was almost deafening in its pitch.

Ginny waited until Angel was out of earshot before turning to Draco. "When are we going to discuss the applicants?"

"After dinner. I just need to—"

"What happened?"

"I was thoroughly dismissed." Draco released a long breath.

"Draco, what did you expect? You go there, refusing to do what she's asked, and Drake's there trying to cheer her up the only way he knows how."

"What is this drinking tea with her?"

Ginny sighed quietly. "He has concluded that your mother is always happy when she's drinking tea with people, so he decided to cheer her up by drinking tea with her."

Draco scoffed.

"Whether drinking tea cheers her or not, the thought and his explanation will put a smile on her face."

"Whatever," Draco muttered.

"Oh, and I'd brace yourself for another telling off too."

"Why?"

"Angel isn't very happy with you, so she's likely to tell you at some point."

Draco smirked confidently. "She'll forget about it once we're riding."

"Don't be so sure," Ginny warned. "You haven't seen her take with one hand only to slap you with the other yet."

"Gin, you worry too much. My daughter loves me."

"Yes, she does, but that doesn't mean she won't air her displeasure if she's upset at something you've done."

"Never," Draco responded arrogantly.

"Fine, go. Just don't say I didn't warn you."

Draco kissed his wife on the cheek. "I'll see you at dinner."

"You're staying out that long?"

"The horses need a good workout, and I need to clear my head."

"All right," Ginny agreed quietly. It was better to let him go and sort through his feelings than force him to stay or even come back before he was ready. As he left, she noticed that his shoulders were slumped, and his head was low. All she could do was hope that he came back in a better frame of mind.

* * *

Draco and Angel returned from their ride absolutely famished and just in time for dinner. They were full of chatter about where they'd been and what they'd seen. Angel did take the time, in between mouthfuls and other talk, to inform the table that she had thoroughly admonished her father for being a naughty boy to Grandmother. The little girl sounded so much like Molly Weasley that Ginny couldn't help but feel sorry for her husband, who was cringing at the head of the table.

Drake hardly picked at his meal, having spent the rest of the afternoon with Narcissa eating French pastries and making her laugh. The little boy cast the odd resentful glance towards the head of the table, but didn't say anything that would get him into trouble.

Ginny had spent more time on planning her dinner party. She felt it was really starting to come together now and she found herself looking forward to putting the finishing touches on the plans, so the invitations could be sent.

After everyone had finished eating the twins were sent for baths under the watchful eyes of Millie. When they were ready Ginny told them they could play for a little while in the playroom, while she and Draco returned to the study to discuss the appointment of a tutor.

* * *

"We agreed to discuss each applicant and make our decision on their professional ability along with the children's reaction to them," Draco stated firmly. He knew Ginny didn't have any experience making such decisions and was likely to allow her heart to decide who was best for the children.

"I know, Draco. We've been over this how many times now?"

"I just want you to understand how I will come to my conclusions. I try not to allow my personal feelings invade my professional opinion."

"You explained this to me before," Ginny said patiently. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the man sitting on the opposite side of the desk. They needed to get through this without any animosity.

"I know, but I'm not making my decision on whether or not I like a person. I'll be looking at their credentials and their attitude."

"Yes, darling."

Draco looked at his wife with an amused expression on his face. The notion that he'd just wasted his breath ran through his mind. He knew, no matter what, Ginny would make her decision with her heart not her head. "Okay, we'll go through them one at a time starting with Amherst."

"No, absolutely not."

"I have to agree. He reminded me far too much of your brother, Percy."

Ginny laughed. "It's frightening to think there's another one just like him out there."

"Shall we move on?"

Ginny nodded, sobering immediately.

"What about Merrythought?"

The amused expression melted from Ginny's face immediately. "I found him rude, not only to me, but to Angel as well."

"Fine, he's out. I'd hate to think how I'd find the man if I left him alone in the house with you anyway."

"I don't think I like what you're implying."

"I'm implying nothing, my love, simply stating a fact."

"A fact?"

"Perhaps I can rephrase it." Draco appeared to think deeply for a moment or two. "Let's just say, the idea of disposing of a body after a hard day at the office isn't appealing."

"I would never."

"Now you're telling fibs." Draco smirked at her indignant expression. "Shall we move on to the next?"

"Yes, before I feel the need to make a liar out of myself and teach you a thing or two."

Draco chuckled. "Conway?"

"I liked him a lot."

"Why can I feel a 'but' in there?"

"He was great. I really can't think of any reason to not appoint him, but I think Clare is the person I want teaching the children."

Draco framed his words very carefully. He knew who he wanted for the position, and now it was just a matter of convincing Ginny to change her mind. "Conway was perfect. He showed terrific balance between being approachable and an authority figure. It's something that I don't feel Miss Sheehan displayed."

"The kids loved her. Did you see their expressions when she left? They didn't want her to go, because they were having fun."

"Ginny, there's a difference between a playmate and a tutor."

"Yes, but if their tutor is someone they really like then they're more likely to want to please that person."

"And what happens when discipline is required?" Draco paused for a moment to consider his thoughts. "I have no problem with Miss Sheehan; I just have some reservations about whether she'd be able to discipline the twins effectively when needed. Whereas Mr. Conway appears to be the full package — he's friendly, the twins like him, and he's strong enough to be a disciplinarian if required."

"I'm certain she's a lot stronger than she looks. The Maddocks were happy with her. Did Mr. Maddock indicate he'd ever had a problem with discipline?"

"No, he didn't, but she did have only one student with the Maddocks."

"Draco, I really think that at their age the twins need someone who's a bit softer... a woman who can hold them if they fall over and skin their knees, someone they can go to when they're frightened. Maybe when they're older we can opt for someone a little harsher, but for now I would feel a lot more comfortable if they had someone who was loving."

"There was nothing to indicate that Mr. Conway isn't capable of all that."

"Nothing, except for the fact that he's a man and men don't generally comfort distressed children in the same manner as women."

Draco sighed heavily and ran his hands through his hair. The fact was both candidates were brilliant and Ginny's arguments for Miss Sheehan were fair. Of course, they had to make a decision somehow. He still felt that Mr. Conway was the better choice of the two in the long term.

"Why don't we ask the twins who they preferred?" Ginny suggested.

"Let them make the decision?"

"No, but it would be interesting to know who they preferred and they might be able to supply us with good reasons why they preferred one over the other."

"All right, we'll ask them," Draco agreed.

"Why don't we go to them, rather than get them to come here? Then we can put them to bed while we're there, because it's getting a bit late."

"Okay, let's go," Draco agreed getting to his feet. He was tired and really just wanted to come to a decision, so he could relax for the rest of the night. "What did you do this afternoon?" he asked as they strolled out of the study.

"I did a little more work on the household books and then I curled up with a book for a while."

"More work?"

"I'm trying to get well ahead," Ginny responded casually. "That way I'll only have to make a few changes to accommodate social events."

"Good idea."

"Yes, I thought so."

They paused in the doorway of the playroom to observe the twins for a few minutes. Angel was playing quietly with her dolls, and Drake was working furiously at their small table with his crayons.

Draco stepped into the room, bringing Ginny with him. "It's nearly bedtime."

Drake's head snapped up immediately. "I _have_ to finish this."

"What is it that you're doing?" Draco asked.

"A picture for Grandmother," Drake admitted distractedly as he continued to color.

"Drake, can you put it aside until tomorrow?" Ginny asked gently. "We'd really like to speak to both of you before you go to bed."

"I wanted to give it to Grandmother tonight."

"I think your grandmother has already retired for the evening, Drake," Draco informed him.

"Oh—well, I guess I could give it to her tomorrow."

"You can finish it after breakfast and then, if she's not busy, you can go and visit her."

"Okay," the little wizard concurred tiredly, putting aside his bright blue crayon.

"Come and sit down over here both of you," Draco said, directing the children towards the sofas. "We have something to ask you."

"What, Daddy?" Drake asked curiously, making his way to the sofa.

Draco waited until everyone was seated before asking his question. "We want to know who you liked the best out of the people you've met over the last two days."

"I liked the lady best," Angel said firmly.

"Me too," Drake agreed.

"You didn't like any of the gentlemen?" Draco prodded.

"Umm—the one who liked Quidditch was nice," Drake offered, while Angel nodded her agreement. "But I liked the lady better."

"Is there any reason you liked her better?" Ginny asked. She hoped there was a reason the twins could voice to convince Draco that Clare was the right person for the job.

"She was funny," Drake said.

"Is that all?" Draco enquired.

Angel's brow furrowed in thought and she shrugged. "She was nice."

"Why?" Drake asked.

"We just wanted to know what you thought," Ginny explained simply.

"Is she going to be our tutor?" Angel enquired.

"We haven't made our final decision yet," Draco informed them seriously.

Drake looked pensive for a moment. "What if we don't like who you choose?"

"We'll be selecting the best person for the job, whether you like that person or not is beside the point," Draco said firmly. "A tutor is someone who will prepare you for Hogwarts, not a friend or playmate."

The little wizard muttered something under his breath.

Draco thought it better to ignore whatever problem Drake was having at the moment, considering he'd expressed a liking for the two most likely candidates. "All right, upstairs and into bed with both of you."

"Can we have a story first, Daddy?" Angel gave her father the most pleading of looks.

"Mummy and I still have a great deal to discuss," Draco started. He made the fatal mistake of looking at his daughter while he was trying to refuse her. "Perhaps just a short one."

"I think that story can happen when they're upstairs, don't you, Draco?" Ginny suggested more than asked.

"Yes, good idea. We'll get you tucked in first."

It took several minutes to get the twins upstairs and ready for bed. When they were both snuggled in Angel's bed Draco opened one of their favorite storybooks. The more he read the further away his problems with his parents drifted. He was always surprised at how relaxing this task was. The simplicity of reading to the twins made it so enjoyable.

* * *

When Draco and Ginny returned to Draco's study they went through the notes from the interviews and the resumes of both candidates again, trying to find just one thing that would put one applicant ahead of the other. Apart from more experience on Mr. Conway's side there was nothing to separate the two.

"Well, who are we going to appoint?" Ginny asked.

Draco expelled a large breath of air. "I'd still feel more comfortable with Conway."

"The children and I prefer Clare."

"All right, Miss Sheehan it is then. I'll arrange the owls to advise everyone tomorrow."

"Thank you, sweetheart."

"When she falls to pieces or the kids are running feral don't blame me."

"I'm certain she'll do wonderfully. The twins are going to be so excited."

"You can tell them when she's accepted the position. There's no point telling them until we've confirmed her appointment."

"Okay, I'll keep my mouth closed."

"Good, because I'd hate for her to have changed her mind and the children to be disappointed."

"You have a point," Ginny admitted.

"Now, I think I'm ready for bed."

"You do look tired."

"That ride wore me out more than I thought," Draco confessed. "May I escort you upstairs, Mrs. Malfoy?"

"I'd like that very much, Mr. Malfoy," Ginny responded, trying her best not to giggle as Draco moved around the desk and assisted her to her feet. Now that the decision had been made she realized she was feeling a little weary herself, and the thought of falling asleep in her husband's arms was most welcoming.

* * *

****

**_AUTHOR'S NOTE_**

_Thank you to everyone who reviewed the previous chapter. Huge thanks to Rainpuddle13 for her wonderful beta skills!_


	8. Foot in Mouth

**_Disclaimer_**_: I don't own any of the characters you may recognize from the wonderful world of Harry Potter, they all belong to the revered JK Rowling; I just like to play with them a little._

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

**FOOT IN MOUTH**

When Draco Apparated into the foyer of Malfoy Manor on Friday afternoon his eyes went straight to the staircase and then they lit up. Every afternoon for the last two weeks, Drake had met him upon his arrival home from the office, and today was no different.

"Daddy!" Drake squealed, launching himself off the stairs and into Draco's arms.

"Have you had a good day?" Draco asked, almost squeezing the very life out of his heir.

"Yep! Did you?"

"I suppose so," Draco replied evasively. "Do you know where Mummy is?"

"She's in the parlor, but you can't see her yet."

"And why would that be?"

"Grandmother wants to see you first," Drake informed him seriously.

"Does she now?"

Drake nodded gravely. "She said she would be in the— the— the room where she grows stuff."

"The solarium," Draco corrected with a smirked. "Well, she can wait, because right now I want to say hello to your mother and sister."

"But she said the _moment_ you got home or she wouldn't see you at all."

"All right then, I'll go see her. Do you want to come with me?"

"Nope, she said you had to come _alone_."

"I see." Draco regarded his son's grave expression for a moment. "In that case, you can tell your mother I'm home and will be in very soon to say hello."

"I can do that."

"Good, off you go then." Draco watched his son strut self-importantly down the corridor in the direction of the family parlor.

He rubbed his neck wearily and wondered exactly what it was his mother wanted him for, though he did have his suspicions. As he headed in the direction of the solarium, he hoped she wasn't in a needy mood and he'd be able to extract himself gracefully before too long. It wasn't that he didn't want to see his mother, more that he'd enjoyed the time he'd been able to spend with Ginny and the twins before dinner immensely over the past couple of weeks.

Draco stopped just over the threshold of the solarium. His mother was sitting at the small table on the far side of the room. "Mother, you wanted to see me?"

"Draco, darling, do come in." Narcissa smiled warmly as her son placed a chaste kiss on her cheek. "I've missed you these past weeks."

Draco fidgeted guiltily while he waited to be invited to sit down. It was true he'd made no effort to seek either of his parents out at home for the past fortnight, but with the tension still running high with his father, Draco had thought it best if they avoided contact away from the office, where it was necessary. "I've been busy."

"You can save your excuses." Narcissa waved her hand haughtily. "Sit down; I want to talk to you."

Draco lowered himself into the chair opposite his mother's. "How have you been, Mother?"

"Aside from lonely—"

"Mother," Draco warned. He may have been feeling a little guilty, but he wasn't about to allow her to exploit the fact. "I may not have seen you for a couple of weeks, but Ginny has been keeping me apprised of your activities."

Narcissa sniffed affectedly. "Then you would know about the Charity Dinner for Ancient Artefacts tomorrow evening?"

"Yes, I'm aware of it."

"Ginevra informed me that you're not attending."

"No, we're not."

"We _always_ attend."

"You and father are attending, surely that is enough."

"Quite possibly, but I am curious as to why you're not coming."

"Why?"

"I would have thought it was an excellent opportunity to introduce Ginevra to our social circle properly."

"Perhaps it would have been, but we have other plans."

"Ginevra didn't allude to having other plans. I'll make a point of ensuring she notes which functions are most important."

"She doesn't know we have alternate plans, and the decision not to attend was mine."

"I see," Narcissa responded with a hint of disbelief in her tone.

"You don't want to know what I have planned?"

"Tell me if you must."

Draco chuckled at his mother's faux indifferent tone. He knew she was dying to know what was going to keep him from the charity dinner. "Well, if you're not interested I won't bore you."

Narcissa's blue eyes narrowed on her son briefly. "I never said I wasn't interested."

"It's all right, Mother, you don't have to pretend to be interested." Draco smiled as he stood up, ready to leave. "If that was all, I need to say hello to my family."

"Of course."

"Have a pleasant time tomorrow evening." Draco inclined his head politely and took his leave quickly.

On his way back to the southern wing, Draco pondered the real reason for Narcissa requesting an audience with him. It had certainly never bothered her before if he refused to attend a function, though she did have a point about introducing Ginny to their social circle. The last event where everyone had been together had been their wedding and that hadn't been quite the right time to concentrate on ensuring his wife's acceptance into the crowd they socialized with at some of the most important events on the wizarding world's calendar.

Excited squeals assaulted his ears the moment he stepped into the parlor. Angel flew across the room and into his arms to be tossed high in the air, amplifying of her screams.

"How are my girls today?" Draco asked, once Angel had stopped screaming.

"Good!" Angel replied gleefully. "We had tea with Grandmother."

"Did you? Well, that would have been nice."

The little witch nodded enthusiastically. "We had pumpkin juice and pastries."

"Good for you." Draco smiled warmly as he put his daughter on her feet and winked at her. "I think I'd better say hello to Mummy before she gets jealous."

Angel giggled behind her hand as Draco took Ginny into his arms.

It was always the same: Drake would meet him in the foyer, Angel would attack him the moment he stepped into the parlor, and then Ginny would get her chance.

"Hello, love," Draco uttered as he encompassed his wife in his arms.

"Hello," Ginny responded with a smile. "Did you have a nice day?"

"It was all right." Draco kissed her lightly. "I missed you."

"You say that every day."

"I miss you every day." Draco lowered his face to rub his nose on hers. "How was your day?"

"It was okay. Your mother mentioned something about a charity dinner."

"Don't worry, we're not attending."

"Aren't we supposed to?"

"Yes, but I have other plans." It wasn't until Ginny stiffened in his arms that Draco realized he might have said something wrong, and he quickly rephrased his words. "What I meant was: I have made alternative plans for us."

"Oh?"

"It's a surprise, so don't ask. Tomorrow evening is the earliest you'll find out."

"How will I know what to wear?" Ginny asked cheekily.

"I'll instruct the servants to lay out your attire," Draco answered confidently.

"I see."

"Good," Draco drawled, pleased with her acceptance. "Now, I would like to relax a little before dinner."

"All right," Ginny answered slowly. She knew he had a secret, but he seemed a little too happy with himself at the minute. "What do you want to do?"

"I was thinking about a leisurely stroll by the lake."

"To relax?"

"Well, it will help both of us relax later when these two don't have any energy to argue about bedtime."

"I do believe you are learning."

Draco smirked. "I took notes last night."

Ginny laughed. The evening before it had taken just over an hour to convince the twins to settle into their beds. Draco had been close to losing his temper with both of them, given that they'd already stolen his sanity some thirty minutes earlier. "A walk it is then."

"Shall we?" Draco offered Ginny his hand.

As they walked into the grounds Draco lifted the wards protecting the children's play area, so they could walk to the lake.

"Drake, stay where we can see you," Draco called as his son ran ahead. "Angel, why don't you see if you can catch your brother?"

"Daddy, I'm not dressed to be running around." Angel prissily smoothed her dress down.

Draco winked at Ginny and released her hand. "You know, my fingers are just itching to tickle someone."

Angel's eyes widened in horror and shot straight to her father. She didn't like the way his fingers were wiggling in front of him, as if they were looking for someone to tickle. When her father took a large step towards her, the little witch ran off with a loud squeal.

Draco chased his daughter, never quite catching her, but reminding her often that his tickling fingers weren't yet satisfied. Not wanting to miss out on the fun, Drake soon made his presence known with a deafening shriek as he deliberately ran across his father's path.

Ginny stopped under a tree and watched her family running around, being silly and generally having fun. Moments like these could be so easily forgotten as the years went by, but they should be treasured and remembered forever. She hoped there would be many more times like this, and she vowed to remember each one of them. Ginny laughed aloud when Draco finally scooped up Drake under one arm and then Angel under the other. The twins' squeals were ear piercing, and entirely delightful to hear.

"Ginny!"

Draco's concerned tone broke through her thoughts. He was coming towards her with a deep frown on his handsome features.

"Ginny, what's wrong, love?"

"I'm fine." She smiled at his worry.

Draco reached for her, drawing her into his chest. "Why are you crying?"

"I'm not."

He held her at arms length and ran his thumb over her cheek, gathering the tears that had fallen from her eyes. "What's this then?"

Ginny giggled, a little embarrassed at her foolishness. "I don't know. I didn't realize I was crying."

"What upset you?"

"Nothing, I'm not upset."

Draco frowned, not believing her for a minute.

"I was just watching you and the twins, and thinking how wonderful moments like these are."

"And now you're crying?" Draco asked hesitantly.

Ginny nodded, feeling a little guilty now for the worry she'd caused him. "My hormones are a little erratic."

"Father said something about this," Draco muttered not quite to himself.

She couldn't hold the snort of laughter that burst from her. "Your mother was apparently a walking faucet for the duration."

Draco's eyebrows shot up into his hairline. "You know about that?"

"Narcissa told me."

Draco sighed heavily. "So much for the big family secrets Father thinks he's imparting."

"There are no secrets like family secrets."

He nodded thoughtfully. "Are you all right then?"

"Yes, I'm fine." Ginny smiled to reassure him. "Apart from feeling a little silly now."

Draco placed a lingering kiss on her forehead and held her to him gently. "I love you."

"I love you too."

"Do you want to go back to the house?"

"No, of course not."

"All right, but you just let me know if you do."

Ginny bit back the urge to remind Draco that she wasn't terminally ill. "I will."

"Daddy, are we going to run?" Drake asked impatiently.

"I'm going to walk with Mummy for a bit, mate, but you can run."

The little boy's face dropped with disappointment.

"Run with them, Draco," Ginny encouraged.

"What about you?"

"I'm fine. Go and have some fun with them."

"All right, but we won't go out of sight."

She couldn't resist rolling her eyes a little. "I'll be fine."

Draco paused to place a quick kiss on her mouth and then took off in the direction of his son. Even Angel joined in without being coaxed. Again squeals of delight filled the air, and Ginny went back to thinking she was the luckiest woman alive.

After running around for an hour, the family returned to the house, considerably more mussed than what they were earlier. Ginny sent Draco and the children off to wash their hands while she checked on the availability of dinner. When they finally appeared in the dining room all three appeared to have taken a bath, without removing their clothes, instead of simply ensuring their hands were clean.

"Which bathroom did you use?"

"Ground floor, closest to the parlor," Draco answered, flashing a cheeky grin in his wife's direction.

Ginny shook her head. "Millie, can you make sure that bathroom doesn't resemble a swamp?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"The least you three could do is look a little remorseful," Ginny said, glancing around the table.

She had to give them credit for their efforts to change their expressions, but it didn't last long. The moment Drake giggled Draco and Angel dissolved into fits of laughter.

"All right, that's enough," Ginny ordered, shaking her head and wondering if she was turning into her mother. "Eat your dinner before it goes cold."

With everyone thoroughly chastised, or as close as Ginny could manage when they kept laughing, they began eating with only the occasional giggling fit interrupting the silence. Just as the family was finishing dessert Lucius walked into the room looking a little uncomfortable.

"Ginevra," Lucius intoned politely.

"Good evening, Lucius." Ginny smiled brightly, though the gesture held more humor than it should have.

"I was wondering if I might be permitted to tuck the children in tonight."

"Of course, they haven't had their baths yet, so it will be a while before they're ready for bed."

"Perhaps I could collect them in an hour?"

"That would be fine."

"Thank you." Lucius inclined his head politely and left the room quickly.

"For goodness sakes," Ginny growled, her good humor leaving with her father-in-law.

"What?" Draco questioned.

"When are you two going to get over this?"

"When he admits he was wrong."

"Draco, he wouldn't even look at you."

"It doesn't bother me."

"Well, it should!"

"Why? Life is peaceful."

"Draco, you're not setting a good example. What if you and Drake have a disagreement in the future?"

"I'm not my father. Unlike him, I will admit when I'm wrong." Draco placed his cutlery on the table and gave his full attention to his wife. "He's accustomed to getting his own way whether he's right or wrong. In the past I have given into him for the sake of harmony and to keep Mother happy. I can't do that this time, Ginny."

"When is it going to end then?"

"I don't know, love. He's not likely to give in, so I guess things will simply return to normal in time."

Ginny shook her head and sighed heavily. It wasn't how she was used to dealing with disputes. To ignore the problem didn't make it go away, but she didn't know quite how to get Draco to see this.

"Just leave it, love. Things will sort themselves out in time," Draco assured her.

"I can't see how."

"They will, trust me."

The twins had watched the exchange between their parents with avid interest. It was no secret that Daddy and Grandfather weren't talking at the moment, and that both of them went to great lengths to avoid each other at home. They finished their dessert in silence and waited patiently for their mother to suggest it was time for their baths.

Ginny pushed her dessert aside and placed her hands on the table. "Come on, you two, let's see about a bath."

"I was going to bath them," Draco said.

"You can join us when you've finished eating." Ginny stood up in readiness to leave the room. "If I don't get them started now your father will be back for them before they're ready."

Draco watched his wife leave with the children. He knew she wasn't exactly upset with him, but she wasn't exactly happy with him either. It bothered him that she couldn't or wouldn't see why he refused to give in to Lucius. The thought that he hadn't told her exactly what had been said between the two of them haunted him. He couldn't bring himself to reveal all the dirty details, because it would cause an all out war and he'd likely find himself in the position of referee. All of a sudden his apple pie didn't taste so nice anymore, and he pushed it away from his with a snarl.

* * *

Ginny leaned against the parlor doorway with a small smile playing across her mouth. Draco had not come up to the bathroom to help her with the twins and by not coming upstairs he'd also missed out on saying goodnight to the children, because Lucius had turned up exactly one hour after he left the dining room to collect them. After assuring Ginny the children would be in bed at a reasonable hour, he led the twins downstairs and to the northern wing for a short while. She knew Draco wouldn't pursue them while they were in his father's company.

She sighed heavily and pushed herself off the doorframe. Draco was sound asleep in his chair, feet up on the occasional table and snoring loudly. As she drew closer Ginny noticed a tumbler of Firewhisky in his hand. It was tipped precariously towards the Oriental rug on the floor. She stepped forward quickly and seized the glass.

"Hey, that's mine," Draco complained groggily, while reaching clumsily for his drink that his wife was easily holding out of reach.

"I suppose you were enjoying it as well?"

"Yes," Draco responded grumpily.

"So, were you sipping it between snores, or just holding it until the rug got thirsty?"

"I do not—"

"Yes, you do and don't argue, because I heard you," Ginny said sternly. "Now, you're obviously tired, so don't you think it would be a better idea to go up and take a shower now, before you fall asleep again?"

"I was simply resting my eyes," Draco insisted.

"Oh, and the snoring was to scare attackers away while your eyes were closed!"

Draco opened his mouth to respond, but snapped it shut when he saw Ginny's amused expression. To retort would be to play right into her hand and he wouldn't do that. Instead he muttered his displeasure under his breath.

"Are you coming up?"

"I was having a drink."

Ginny rolled her eyes at him. "You were having a sleep."

"I'd like to finish my drink."

"You'll have to come and get it then," Ginny responded cheekily as she left the parlor in a hurry.

Draco looked at the retreating back of his wife in disbelief. Was he being sent to bed like a naughty boy? Granted, he was tired and he had drifted off for a moment, but that was no reason to take his drink and send him to bed. He considered simply pouring himself another drink, but thought the better of it as his hand touched the bottle. It might be more fun to chase the drink he already had, and if it didn't turn out to be enjoyable at least he'd be able to rest his aching body. He didn't think running around so much this afternoon would have affected him like this, but apparently it wasn't such a good idea to participate in such an activity after a long day at the office.

* * *

Draco waited patiently at the foot of the staircase for his wife to present herself. Even though they were going to be late for their reservation, he wasn't going to rush her. Tonight was about her and only her, so if she wanted to take ten hours to get ready then he'd not complain, or he'd try not to at least. He just hoped the restaurant kept their table, because they were renown for being over booked on Saturday evenings and weren't above canceling the reservations of latecomers.

So far, Draco had done everything to prepare for this evening, other than dress Ginny himself. The twins had been dutifully delivered to his in-laws' house for the night. That, in itself, took longer than he expected, because Molly wanted to know exactly where they were going and what his plans were. At one stage Draco felt a bit like a teenage boy taking the woman's daughter out for the first time, instead of a married man with two children and one on the way. He'd eventually escaped, stating that he didn't want to keep Ginny waiting. After that he'd prepared himself in his son's suite, so that Ginny had the run of their suite to herself. All he'd done was give her a time to be in the foyer.

While he waited, he again wondered why he had never thought to do this before now. They had been out to dinner, but he could count on one hand the number of times they'd been out alone. The twins usually accompanied them, which affected their choice of restaurant and turned the treat of going out into a family meal that she couldn't really enjoy, because she was constantly watching the children. Of course, he knew exactly why he was doing it now — he'd been given a bit of a rude shock when he'd eavesdropped on the discussion the Weasley women had been having at lunch last weekend. They'd all been reminiscing about how their respective husbands romanced them when they were courting. Ginny had very little to say when she was prodded to expand on how Draco had won her heart, and that was when he realized that he'd really only taken her on a 'date' once. He hoped that tonight would go a little way to repairing the cheerless tone he'd heard in her voice last weekend at the family luncheon, not to mention nullifying his own guilt over not romancing her in a memorable way.

A lightly cleared throat from above him intruded upon his thoughts, and he looked up. His breath caught in his throat as his wife began to descend the staircase. Her dress flowed softly from her body, hiding her burgeoning belly to the point where Draco could have sworn she looked as she did when they first got back together. He released a hiss of appreciation as she neared.

"I'll take that as a compliment, shall I?" Ginny commented lightly. She hadn't failed to notice that Draco's eyes had darkened to a deep slate color.

"You are breathtaking, my love," Draco said thickly.

"Thank you." Ginny afforded him a small sultry smile. "You look good enough to eat yourself."

Draco smirked confidently and smoothed his dress robes down. "Are you ready?"

"I am."

"I have something for you."

"Oh?"

Draco reached into his pocket and withdrew a flat, rectangular jewelers box. "For you."

"Why? You know you don't have to—" Ginny stopped when Draco's finger slid across her lips.

"Because I love you and I want to spoil you." Draco kissed her lightly. "Are you going to open it?"

"I love you too." Ginny removed the delicate ribbon surrounding the box and opened the little brass catches. She gasped softly as the sparkle of diamonds caught her eyes. "They're beautiful."

"Not as beautiful as you," Draco whispered, taking the box from her hands and setting about removing the necklace from its secure anchors. "Turn around."

Draco fastened the diamond-encrusted necklace at the base of his wife's neck. He'd taken a gamble on Ginny not bothering to put any jewelry on this evening and it had paid off. She turned to face him, her fingers playing over the diamonds resting against her creamy skin.

"They look amazing on you." He gently secured the earrings to her lobes and smiled at the effect. "Go and have a look," Draco urged.

Ginny smiled softly as she glided over to one of the ornamental oval mirrors in the vestibule. She gasped when she saw the image before her.

"They only enhance your beauty," Draco muttered, pausing to kiss the milky column of her neck.

"They're amazing."

"You're amazing," Draco countered. "I think we should get going before I change my mind and carry you upstairs."

"That's a tempting offer."

"We'll save that for later," Draco muttered into her neck, before summoning her traveling cloak and gently placing it over her shoulders. He had planned the perfect evening and was going to see those plans come to fruition no matter what temptations were waved in his face.

* * *

Ginny waited politely for Draco to hold out her chair and then she sat down delicately. The restaurant he'd chosen was very fashionable. It certainly wasn't the type of establishment that welcomed children of any age, and as such they'd never dined here before, or at least Ginny hadn't. Draco, on the other hand, seemed to be well acquainted with their waiter. She perused the menu the moment it was placed in front of her.

"Shall I order for both of us?" Draco suggested.

"Yes, I'm having a hard time deciding what I want."

"I've been here before, so I've got a fair idea what's good."

Ginny smiled across the table. "I think I can trust you."

Draco summoned the waiter and placed their order without hesitation. When the waiter had retreated, he turned his attention back to his wife. "Are you having a nice time?"

"Yes, it's lovely."

"Good."

"The twins were all right when you left them with Mum?"

"They were fine."

"Maybe I should Floo her just to check on them?"

"Ginny, they're fine. It's not like your mum doesn't know what to do with children."

"I know. I just feel a bit odd leaving them for the whole night."

"You've never felt that way before," Draco pointed out.

"I have, I just never said anything before."

Draco reached across the table and took her hand in his. "Tonight is about you and me, and no one else. We're not going to think about the twins until tomorrow morning just before we leave for the Burrow, which will be after we've had a leisurely breakfast in bed or wherever else we may choose to eat."

"Okay, but you know what they can get like. I'd hate to think they were giving Mum a hard time or anything."

"Love, your mother can handle them, probably better than anyone else can, in fact." He squeezed her hand reassuringly. "Now I want you to forget you're a mother, just for tonight."

Ginny smiled agreeably at her husband. He didn't know that it was easier said than done.

"Tonight you are just Ginny Malfoy, out having a wonderful time with your incredibly handsome husband," Draco said frankly. "You have no responsibilities, apart from having a great time and sleeping late tomorrow morning."

"All right, I'll try to stop thinking about the twins."

"Good girl."

Throughout their meal Draco kept the small talk flowing. It was difficult at times, because he knew Ginny's thoughts were drifting to the twins and what they might be up to at any given moment, but he kept chatting away constantly. He hoped that what he had planned next would take her mind completely off the children.

After paying the bill, Draco led Ginny down the street of the upper class area to a small, but exclusive dance club. He could tell she was surprised, because it was something they'd never done before.

"Don't worry, there's no silly teenagers in this club; it's too pricey for their pockets," Draco whispered in her ear as he directed her to a private table.

"It's very... civilized."

"I wouldn't take you anywhere that wasn't," Draco commented. "Would you like a drink?"

"Yes, please."

After ordering their drinks they sat back and watched the other couples on the dance floor for a while. Draco's arm slipped around Ginny's shoulders and he encouraged her to lean back into his chest. They'd been sipping their drinks for about a half an hour when Ginny suddenly sat up.

"I like this song."

"Well, Mrs. Malfoy, may I have this dance?"

It was the last time they sat down all evening. Draco couldn't have been happier with how the night was turning out. Ginny was having a good time and she finally appeared to have stopped thinking about the children. Of course, he hadn't, but he consoled himself with the thought that they'd be sound asleep by now.

When they finally made their way back to the table, Draco noticed that even though Ginny was happy she was beginning to look very tired.

"Are you all right?"

"Just a little tired."

"I think it's time we headed home then."

"No, I'm fine."

"You don't want to wear yourself out totally."

Ginny couldn't hold back the sigh of relief that escaped her as she took her weight off her feet. "I really just need to sit for a bit."

"Come on, let's just get you home."

"But we're having fun."

"I know, but I would like to do this again sometime, and if you're left with the memory of being completely devastated afterwards you're not likely to be too keen."

"All right then, take me home," Ginny agreed. Draco was making a little too much sense for her to refuse.

After collecting their cloaks, they strolled back to the Apparation point at a leisurely pace. It had been a perfect evening, and Draco was hoping to put the perfect end to it.

When they arrived in the foyer of the manor, Ginny was still giggling at something Draco had said as they'd Apparated from Diagon Alley. He helped her out of her cloak, dropping onto the nearest house elf and scooped his wife up in his arms.

"Draco, put me down!"

"Nope." He grinned cheekily. "You've been on your feet way too long already."

All the way to their chambers Ginny clung to his neck for dear life, muttering the occasional, _"I'm too heavy for you"_, only to be told firmly that she was as light as a feather. He placed her on their bed gently and stepped back to survey the woman he loved.

"What would you like to do?"

Ginny appeared to think for a moment. "A bath would be nice."

"Oh—okay," Draco uttered, trying to mask the disappointment he felt. "I'll have it drawn for you."

"For us," Ginny corrected.

He smirked wickedly, the disappointment he'd felt just moments before evaporating immediately. Rather than have their private space invaded by a servant, Draco ran the bath himself. Just the thought of having his naked wife in the bath again was getting his groin twitching already. He tried to distract his mind by focusing on scenting the water and ensuring the bubbles were perfect. When the water had reached an acceptable level Draco shut off the taps and returned to the bedchamber.

Ginny had changed into her bathrobe while Draco was in the bathroom. She looked so relaxed lying on the bed that Draco thought she might have fallen asleep.

"Your bath is ready, love," Draco ventured, half expecting no reply.

A sleepy smile tugged at Ginny's mouth, but otherwise there was no movement from the tired woman.

Draco sat on the bed next to her. "Do you still want a bath?"

"Mmm... Yes," she mumbled. "I shouldn't have laid down."

"Can you get up?"

"Don't know."

Draco tugged gently at the tie on her robe, encouraging it to loosen and then to fall free. A hungry smirk crossed his features when he discovered she'd removed her underwear as well. "Slip your arms out of the sleeves, Ginny."

She drew one of her arms towards her chest, while Draco hung onto the end of the sleeve and then repeated the procedure for the other side.

"Can you get up now, or am I going to have to carry you?"

Ginny's arms reached up for him. "Carry me."

"Hang on." Draco chuckled as his arms slid under her. He picked her up effortlessly and conveyed her to the bathroom.

It wasn't until he was lowering her gently into the warm bubbly water that Draco realized he should have taken his shirt off before attempting this maneuver. As it was, he was soaked to the elbows and that uncomfortable wet feeling was climbing up his shirtsleeves to his armpits. The moment she was settled Draco withdrew his arms and almost tore his shirt from his body, eager to get the creeping wet feeling away from his skin.

He regarded his sleepy wife hungrily. She had totally relaxed in the water, closing her eyes and resting back against the rear of the tub. Rather than joining her right away he picked up a large sponge, knelt by the tub, and began to caress her bare skin. After taking care of her arms, Draco ran the sponge across her shoulders and between her breasts. When he softly guided it over the undersides of her breasts she purred contentedly. As tempted as Draco was to keep the sponge around the area he moved on, taking particular care to trace her burgeoning midriff.

Ginny sunk into the water, battling the urge to simply slip off to sleep. When Draco started washing her, she thought it would be the end of her battle. The gentle motion of the sponge was soothing at first, and then her body began to awaken. Energy she didn't know she possessed began to fill her veins as he teased her body in the most innocent of ways. When he guided the sponge between her legs, but when he didn't quite touch her most tender parts she could have screamed in frustration. The feel of the soft sponge roaming down her legs was wonderful, but not exactly satisfying.

He could feel her body start to twitch, especially as he made his way back up her legs. There was no question that this was turning her on. The fact that she was tired had become irrelevant. A smirk tugged at his lips when he reached the peak of her legs and she released a small whimper as he lingered in the area. Not wanting her to get too accustomed to getting her own way, Draco began to move further up her body. His eyes widened when a low growl came from his seemingly calm wife. The next thing he knew he was half in the bathtub, wetter than he wanted to be with his pants still on, and Ginny was sitting up looking down at him. She had somehow pulled him off balance and into the water.

"That was not very nice," Draco commented thickly.

"But entirely necessary," Ginny countered with a feral grin.

"I don't—"

Draco's words were cut off as she descended on his mouth with unbridled passion. He could feel her hands running wildly over his chest and back, and then pulling at his dress pants, before grabbing the hardness within. If it wasn't happening to him right at that very moment, he would have thought it impossible to go from simply desiring his wife to _having_ to have her in such a short time. At some point the sponge dropped from his hand in favor of exploring her body more readily with his bare hand.

"Take your trousers off," Ginny muttered into his cheek.

The hard soles of his shoes were doing him no favors as he tried to find purchase on the bottom of the marble tub. It was only when he was finally standing that Draco realized he should have removed his shoes beforehand, because just the idea of balancing on one foot in the slippery bathtub sent chills down his spine — he was sure to break his neck if he tried such a foolish thing. With care he stepped from the tub onto the marble floor. It was still slippery, but he felt a lot safer. After a few attempts, Draco was able to remove one shoe, and then the next followed quickly. His trousers were stuck to his skin, and he had to peel them off his legs to free himself, rather than just taking them down and stepping out.

Ginny watched her husband divest himself of his remaining clothes. It was like some sort of awkward striptease without the music. She suppressed the urge to giggle when he almost fell over. Of course, his facial expression was doing nothing to help her assuage her humor — it was caught between deep concentration and lust, leaving him with a comical look. Her tongue flicked over her lips when she spied his erection. The urge to reach out and touch him sent a rush of heat throughout her body. She wanted to feel him, and to hear his pleasure when she did. Without even realizing she'd done so, Ginny sunk her teeth into the side of her mouth and groaned wantonly.

As Draco prepared to step back into the tub, he glanced down at his wife. Her eyes had glazed over in a most arousing way. She was fixated on his groin, which from his point of view was most definitely a good thing. As he cautiously climbed into the bathtub, making room for his body behind her again, she groaned in a way that set his blood on fire.

* * *

As his normal senses began to return him, the first thing Draco noticed was the labored breathing of his wife. She sounded even more exhausted now and guilt began to seep into his conscience. He should have simply let her sleep, because it had been a huge night for her and there was always tomorrow for him to seek gratification. It was too late to repair the damage, but he could minimize the effect as much as possible. He gently pulled her back to lean on his chest. With the same gentleness he'd exercised earlier, he washed her again, but this time in preparation for bed.

Before letting Ginny out of the tub, Draco gave himself a quick wash and then braved the slippery marble floor of the bathroom first. He dried the floor and laid a thick towel at the side of the bathtub for her to stand on. If they weren't both fully sated, his drying her body might have been erotic, but as it was it was simply a quicker alternative to allowing her to dry herself when she was completely fatigued. When he was satisfied that there was no excess water left on her body, Draco scooped her into his arms and carried her to bed. With the children safely at the Burrow for the evening he saw no reason to fuss with nightwear, most especially when such garments would likely get in the way of his planned pre-breakfast snack.

By the time Draco climbed into bed beside Ginny, her breathing had already evened out into a slumberous pattern. He spooned her warm body and rested a hand protectively over his growing child, smiling a little as his eyes slipped closed. The evening had been perfect and that pleased him immensely.

* * *

"Mummy! Daddy!" Angel squealed deafeningly as she ran across the yard.

"Angel," Draco replied happily as he gathered his little girl in his arms. "Were you a good girl?"

The little strawberry blonde nodded emphatically.

"Is everyone here?" Ginny asked absently, scanning the yard.

"Yep! Everyone!" Angel replied excitedly.

"Brilliant," Draco mumbled sarcastically. All he'd wanted to do was collect the twins and go home, but he'd been told in no uncertain terms that they would be staying for the birthday party this afternoon. It was one of the boys birthdays, but he was damned if he could remember which one.

"Draco, Ginny, I wondered when you two were going to show up," Molly expressed loudly as she came to say hello.

"Sorry, Mum, we slept late," Ginny answered. It wasn't really an untruth. They had slept late, but she wasn't about to explain to her mother what they'd been doing between waking up and finally getting out of bed for some sustenance around one o'clock.

"No problem at all, dear. Everyone's here! We're about to cut the cake, so why don't you come and sit down." Molly was already walking back to the kitchen door. "You'll have to tell me how your evening was a bit later."

"Okay, Mum. Do you need a hand?"

"No, everything is under control."

"Ginny, we don't have to stay too long," Draco hissed. With the cake being cut now it would provide a chance for them to escape early.

"We can't just leave straight away."

"Fine, but we're not staying all afternoon."

"All right, we'll stay an hour or so, okay?" Ginny whispered in reply, knowing full well once someone mentioned a game of Quidditch Draco wouldn't want to be going anywhere.

"Good." Draco walked off, placing the child's gift on the table, on his way to where the men were gathered. "Afternoon, all."

Ginny watched as her brothers greeted her husband. She pleased with what she saw. Her brothers, for the most part, had accepted Draco for who he was now, not who they thought he'd been years ago.

"Are you going to stand there all day with that goofy expression on your face or are you going to come and sit down?" Anya asked, suppressing a giggle as she finished.

"Leave Ginny alone, Anya, she is pregnant," Fleur admonished lightly. "Her mind wanders and forgets to return."

"I'm coming," Ginny insisted. "Hello, ladies. Fleur, where is Beau? I wanted to wish him happy birthday."

As Ginny took a seat at the table her sisters-in-law greeted her in a rather garbled chorus.

"He's running around with Matthew and Drake somewhere. Catch him when the cake comes out."

"Where were you last night?" Pansy asked pointedly.

"Oh, Draco took me to dinner, and then we went dancing," Ginny responded happily.

"Lucky you," Pansy said grumpily. "I got stuck at the _Charity Dinner for Ancient Artefacts_."

"It couldn't have been that bad."

"It was!" Pansy grinned maliciously. "Though there was one part that was most entertaining."

"Do tell," Ginny replied interestedly.

"Mrs. Nott had a few wardrobe malfunctions."

"Oh?"

Pansy giggled hysterically. "She went to the bathroom and came back with her skirt tucked into her knickers, and when she tried to tug it free it wouldn't come. She ended up pulling it that hard that she tore the fabric. Of course, she fixed it, but it wouldn't stay, so she spent much of the night falling apart then trying to inconspicuously repair the tear again. Then one of her heels broke and she was hobbling around. She got so harassed her hair came down. I swear, by the end of the night she looked like she'd been dragged through a bush backwards."

"Oh my god, you're kidding, aren't you?"

"No, it was so funny."

"Did you notice if Narcissa was anywhere close by when all this was happening?"

"They were sitting at the same table." Pansy frowned for a moment as if in deep thought. "In fact, I think it was Narcissa who kept pointing out things that were wrong."

"Oh dear." Ginny giggled. "Well, I guess they're even."

"Even? What do you mean?"

"Nothing, nothing, it's over and done with now."

"Ginny, tell me what's going on?"

"No, I can't."

"Yes, you can."

Ginny sat there tight-lipped, refusing to say a word.

"Come to think of it, Narcissa was acting a little odd. When she was pointing out Mrs. Nott's faults to her she wasn't exactly being discreet. It was very unlike her."

Ginny snorted with laughter, unable to hold it in any longer. "She wanted to humiliate her."

"Why?"

"All right, I'll tell you, but you can't tell a soul," Ginny warned. "Narcissa was looking after the twins for me one day while I went to visit Draco at work—"

"Why didn't you just take the twins with you?" Pansy cut in.

"I—err—I couldn't," Ginny stammered. There was no way she was about to explain why she didn't take the children with her. "Anyway, Mrs. Nott had Owled Narcissa after I left and invited her to lunch. Narcissa Flooed her to make her apologies, and when she explained why she couldn't attend Mrs. Nott likened her to a house elf."

Pansy gasped loudly. "You're ki—"

"She _what_?"

Ginny spun around in her chair to see her enraged husband standing right behind her. "Draco, it's—"

"Did you say that woman called Mother a house elf?"

"Not exactly." Ginny cringed. "She likened her to one."

"It's the same thing," Draco snarled.

"From what Pansy tells me, Narcissa did get her revenge last night."

Draco sniffed arrogantly. "That's child's play."

Ginny's eyes grew wide. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing you need to worry about."

Ginny watched as Draco strode away. He was clearly furious, and she felt helpless to do anything about it, not to mention she was kicking herself for opening her mouth.

"Oooh, someone isn't happy," Pansy commented.

"No." Ginny sighed heavily. "I shouldn't have said anything."

"He'll get over it," Pansy assured her. "After he's destroyed the Nott family."

"Don't even joke about things like that," Ginny warned seriously.

"Look there's nothing you can do about it now, so just sit back and let him do what he must."

"Ginny, you know what men are like. They'll rant and rave, but very little will come of it," Anya assured her.

Ginny shook her head. "Draco's not like that."

"I have to agree," Pansy concurred. "Most especially when he's seeking revenge."

"What do you think he'll do?" Katie asked excitedly.

"I don't know," Ginny mumbled.

Pansy snorted. "He'll destroy them."

"Pansy!"

"I'm only stating the facts." Pansy feigned an innocent look or as close as she could get to it. "You just want to hope he doesn't tell Lucius."

"Oh god, don't even think that way."

"Cake, everyone!" Molly announced as she placed an enormous birthday cake on the table.

The yard was suddenly full of noise and activity as everyone moved to find a suitable position around the birthday cake. Ginny threw a curious look at her husband, who now appeared as happy as everyone else at the party. She thanked the deities that he wasn't going to make a scene here.

Bill called for the attention of the family and then lit the six candles on his son's cake. A discordant chorus of 'Happy Birthday' filled the yard immediately.

With his first effort Beau only managed to extinguish half the candles, and then had difficulty getting the job completed as his twin uncles decided to entertain everyone with a bit of mortifying banter.

George gasped loudly. "Oh no, Beau, you didn't blow out all the candles!"

The six-year-old looked up at his uncle with wide eyes.

"Do you know what that means?" Fred asked seriously.

Beau shook his head.

"Ignore those two clowns," Bill whispered in his son's ear. "Blow the rest of your candles out."

Beau leaned forward and took a deep breath in readiness to blow the rest of flames out before they melted the icing on the cake.

George leaned over and got as close to his nephew as he could. "That means you've got—"

"Three girlfriends!" Fred announced at the top of his lungs.

The little wizard exhaled in a hurry, failing to extinguish any of the remaining candles, and began spluttering his protests loudly at the thought of having one girlfriend, let alone three. Drake and Matthew soon joined in the protest with their personal views on witches and what a young wizard was sure to catch if they got too close to one.

"Ignore those clowns, Beau, and blow the rest of the candles out before they melt the cake," Bill insisted loudly. He looked at his younger twin brothers irritably. "Will you two give it a rest?"

"Just warning the lad," George explained with false innocence.

"Can't have him wandering around thinking he's a free bloke," Fred claimed.

"Shut it," Bill snarled.

"Blow the rest of the candles out, darling," Fleur encouraged her son softly, sending her brothers-in-law murderous glares.

Fred and George wisely shut their mouths at that point. Neither of them were foolish enough to truly test their French sister-in-law's temper to the limit, at least not when she had back up in the form of the rest of the Weasley women.

Beau made one more firm statement that affirmed his bachelorhood and blew out the remaining candles.

Bill passed his son the large knife that had been dubbed the birthday knife when he was just a lad. "Remember don't touch the bottom or your wish won't come true."

Beau held the knife over the cake for a second, then nodded to himself seriously and plunged the knife in, stopping just short of the bottom.

"All right, let me through and we'll serve the cake," Molly ordered as she moved through the family.

The children who weren't sitting down scrambled for the chairs closest to their grandma. Beau received the first piece of cake and then his aunts began delivering slices to everyone else in attendance. Molly, herself, delivered pieces to her own twins.

"You two ought to be ashamed of yourselves! Upsetting a little boy like that on his birthday!"

"It was only a joke, Mum," Fred defended strongly.

"Besides it's the only time that one works," George pointed out.

"He'll get over it," Fred said confidently.

"Well, you want to hope so, or you won't get over what I'll serve you," Molly warned sternly before walking away.

"That was a bit tame for Mum," Charlie commented curiously.

"Yeah, it was," Bill agreed.

"It's because she loves us so much," Fred assured his brothers.

George nodded in acquiescence. "She just can't bring herself to be angry with us for long."

"She's never had a problem before," Percy responded pompously.

"Draco, you saw her yesterday, didn't you?" Bill enquired.

"Yes, when I dropped the twins off."

Charlie leaned forward on his chair, his expression serious. "How was she then?"

"She appeared perfectly normal to me." In truth, Draco had been far too interested in escaping to take much notice of his mother-in-law. "She just about nattered my ear off before I left."

"Of course, you don't know her as well as we do," Percy mentioned pointedly.

Draco focused his gray eyes on the brother-in-law he liked the least. "I merely answered the question Charlie asked."

"Well, I was only pointing out that you wouldn't recognize any significant changes, as you don't know her as well as we do," Percy reiterated crossly.

Draco rolled his eyes and bit back the sarcastic retort on the tip on his tongue. "Perhaps she's just tired?"

"Nah, Mum doesn't get tired," Ron said through a mouthful of cake.

"Everyone gets tired," Draco retorted impatiently.

"Not Mum," Ron countered firmly.

"What was that about your mother?" Arthur asked as he sat down with his sons.

"Mum doesn't seem to be herself," Bill said before anyone else could respond.

"She's fine," Arthur assured his boys. "A little sick of the silly antics of some, but otherwise perfectly normal."

"All right," Bill conceded, though he didn't sound convinced. Still, no one knew Molly Weasley like her husband. "I'd better go and do present opening before Beau bursts."

"Did you get it?" Charlie asked cryptically.

"Yeah, I managed to convince Fleur that we couldn't really put it off any longer."

"You know the position you've put me in now," Charlie groused good-naturedly.

"All I've done is clear the way for you, little brother. Anya can't say no now."

"I wish I believed that."

Bill chuckled as he walked towards his son. He'd had quite a time convincing Fleur to agree with him on what he considered to be the perfect gift for their son.

"Dad, can I start opening now?"

"Go for it, mate."

Beau looked over the pile of gifts carefully, obviously searching for one in particular.

"Just pick any one to start with, son," Bill encouraged, knowing full well the one gift his son was searching for was safely hidden in the broom shed. He'd placed it in there so Beau would show the proper appreciation for everything else he received and he'd bring it out when all the other gifts were unwrapped.

Before long Beau had unwrapped the pile of brightly wrapped gifts, and was making his way around the yard thanking his aunts and uncles properly.

While the women were smothering Beau in birthday kisses, Bill slipped into the broom shed and retrieved the final gift. He noticed that his son seemed a little disappointed and he couldn't really blame him, because Beau had only asked for one thing for his birthday. When Beau started to resist his Aunt Ginny's cuddles, Bill stepped forward to rescue his son; after all there was only so much a lad could take.

"Beau, you seem to have forgotten one of your presents," Bill called.

"I did?"

"Yep, I found it under the wrapping paper," Bill fibbed. He knew he'd get away with it, as it was entirely plausible. "Are you going to come and open it?"

Beau wormed his way out of Ginny's arms and ran across to his father. "Is it?"

"You'll have to open it and see," Bill told him with a smile.

The little wizard tore into the wrapping paper excitedly. "A broom! Thanks, Dad!"

"You're welcome." Bill leaned close to his over-excited son. "Just do me a favor and don't break your neck, or your mother will break mine."

Fleur approached her husband and oldest son, please to see them so happy. "Do you like your gifts, Beau?"

"Thanks for the broom, Mum."

Bill sent his son a meaningful look.

"Oh, and I promise you won't have to break Dad's neck, 'cause I'm not going to break mine."

Bill groaned and tried to hide his head in his hands as his wife's eyes landed on him with intent.

"And I like everything else too! But I love this the best," Beau exclaimed holding his broom up. "Matthew! Drake! Look at what I got!"

"I think they're getting ready to go flying," Bill said. "Why don't you get your new gear on while we sort out the rest of the brooms?"

"Okay, Dad." Beau gathered his new Quidditch clothes and guards and ran to the house.

Bill waited until his son was safely inside then he quickly crossed the yard to the men. "Everyone remembered their brooms, didn't they?"

A chorus of affirmative answers rang through the air.

Draco looked around, noting that even Percy said yes. "Umm— I forgot."

"No problem, there are plenty of spare brooms in the broom shed," Harry said, not bothering to hide his amusement.

Ron sniggered. "Yeah, you can borrow my old Cleansweep. It's about ten-years-old, but it's still in good flying condition."

"I wouldn't want to put anyone out, so I might just Apparate home and collect my own," Draco responded uncomfortably. He wouldn't be caught dead on a Cleansweep, if he could help it.

"It's no trouble, mate," Ron assured Draco amusedly with a slap on his shoulder. "You're family, after all, so what's mine is yours."

"No, really it won't take me more than a couple of minutes," Draco said getting to his feet.

"You wouldn't want to keep the boys waiting," Harry pointed out as the younger Weasley wizards burst from the house in an excited rush of noise.

"Well—I—err—It's not only the broom. I'm not exactly dressed to go flying either, so I'll have to pick up my gear," Draco stammered.

"I can fix that!" Ron grinned maliciously. "I've got some old gear you can use."

"It's not nec—"

"You'd look really good in a Canons jumper." Ron nodded to affirm his own opinion. "I'll just go hunt it up for you."

Draco watched in horror as Ron headed for the house. There was no way he'd be putting a Canons jumper on. Hell would have to freeze over before he'd even contemplate it.

"What's wrong?" Ginny asked from just behind Draco.

"Love, I didn't see you," Draco answered, slightly startled.

"Is there something going on that I should know about?" Ginny enquired. She didn't like the decidedly gauche expression on her husband's face.

"I forgot my Quidditch gear, and your brother is insisting I borrow his old stuff."

"Oh?" Ginny tried to hide the smile threatening to break across her face. "That's nice of him."

"_Nice_? Ginny, he goes for the _Canons_!" Draco's eyes expressed his utter disgust at the thought. "I can't wear that rubbish—I _won't_!"

"Draco, it's only a jumper. What does it matter what color it is?"

"It's important! It's—it's pride, that's what it is."

"Well, it's a good thing I remembered your Quidditch gear then."

"And my broom? Please tell me you brought _my_ broom! I've _never_ flown a Cleansweep before, and I _intend_ to keep it that way."

"Umm—" Ginny frowned for a moment as if in deep thought, then a fit of giggles burst from her. "Of course, I brought your broom. God forbid you have to sit your sexy backside on something less than the latest racing broom."

"You are an angel," Draco declared, kissing her soundly. "I love you."

"I love you too."

"Where's my gear?"

Ginny sighed. At least she had his attention for two seconds. "It's in my basket. Come on, you can come and get it."

A much happier Draco followed his amused wife across the yard to collect his flying gear.

* * *

The moment he was outside, Beau picked up his new broomstick and began admiring it closely. "Check this out, Matthew."

"It's all right," Matthew responded distractedly. He was staring at Drake's racing broom. "Not as good as Drake's."

"Yeah, well, I'll get a racing broom one day." His 'Cleansweep' didn't even compare to his younger cousin's 'Lightning Bolt 5000', but at least he had a broom of his own now. "It's better than nothing."

"No, you won't," Drake said, picking up his own broom.

Beau frowned. "Won't what?"

"Your daddy can't afford to buy you the best like my daddy can."

Ron, who had just exited the house in his Quidditch gear, looked at his nephews incredulously. "What did you say, Drake?"

"Daddy can afford to buy me the best," Drake answered nonchalantly.

"Where did you hear that?"

"Daddy told me." Drake watched his uncle turn a nasty shade of purple and stalk off, muttering angrily to himself. He was just turning his attention back to his cousin's new broomstick when the bellowing started.

Ron looked around the yard for his only brother-in-law. He was beyond fuming and Draco was casually sauntering across to the other men as if he hadn't done a thing wrong. "Draco, where do you get off telling Drake _stuff_ like that?"

"Stuff like _what_?" Draco responded brusquely, reacting immediately to his brother-in-law's accusatory tone.

"Drake is over there telling Beau that the reason he has a better broom is because _you_ can afford to buy him the best."

"That sounds vaguely familiar," Harry muttered, not bothering to hide his dissatisfaction.

"Familiar? What are you on about, Potter?"

"Do I really have to remind you, Malfoy?"

"I'm afraid you'll have to if I'm to follow what you're saying," Draco spat acerbically as he sat down.

"Second year of Hogwarts ... Your father had just bought the Slytherin Quidditch team Nimbus Two Thousand and One broomsticks."

"Yes?"

"You said something about your father being able to afford the best."

Draco shrugged indifferently. "It wasn't a lie."

"No, it wasn't, but you just had to rub all our noses in it."

"And now you're teaching your son to do the same thing," Ron added nastily.

"Hang on a minute. I have done no such thing."

"Why is Drake spouting off such rubbish then?"

"I was trying to explain to him why Ginny can't home school him, like Fleur does with Beau."

"The type of broomstick you can afford is part of that, is it?" Bill posed evenly, as he moved closer.

Draco took a deep breath to settle his rising temper. "I was attempting to explain to him why Ginny has to do charity work and why that will prevent her from schooling him. I had to put it into terms he could understand and comparing broomsticks was the first thing that came to mind."

"Why does she have to do charity work?" Percy asked importantly.

"That is what the women of the upper class do." Within seconds of the comment slipping carelessly from his mouth, Draco realized he'd said the wrong thing or rather what would be viewed as the wrong thing by this mob. "What I meant—"

"Don't bother trying to explain yourself, we know exactly what you meant," Ron snarled.

Of all the men to react verbally Draco couldn't have been more pleased that it was Ron who chose to open his big mouth. "I'd be very careful if I were you."

"Why is that?"

"What do you think Pansy is going to be spending her days doing once she's at home fulltime?"

"She'll be raising my children."

Draco raised an amused eyebrow at him. "Pansy is from a prominent, wealthy family and she'll be doing what her mother does, and what her grandmother did before her. Your _children_, if you get any more after this little _mishap_, will more than likely be cared for by a nanny."

"Over my dead body!"

"That can be arranged." Draco smirked. "I'm sure Mr. Parkinson would be delighted to oblige."

Ron snarled something unintelligible.

"Is he still giving you a hard time?" Draco queried cleverly. If he could change to subject then there was a chance he could escape further scrutiny.

"I don't think he'll ever stop," Ron grumbled. "He gets some sort of perverse pleasure out tormenting me."

Draco smirked. It had worked. The conversation had turned to Ron and his problematic relationship with his future father-in-law. Words of consolation and support flowed from the rest of the men's mouths, yet not one word of workable advice was offered. "Have you tried confronting him?"

Ron looked at his only brother-in-law as if the man had taken leave of his senses. "What?"

"Confront him, tell him to shut his mouth," Draco reiterated.

"Are you mad?"

"No, I'm quite sane, and very practiced at dealing with men who fancy themselves as bullies."

"He has a point," Harry murmured.

"No, he doesn't. Old Parkinson would kill me if I dared," Ron countered.

"He wouldn't be happy," Draco agreed. "But he might just leave you alone if you don't stand there and take it."

"He's Pansy's father," Ron whined.

"And you're going to have to put up with him for the rest of his life," Draco pointed out. "The question is, are you going to be able to cope with being treated as you are now, or are you going to do something about it before it's too late?"

"He'll kill me!"

"You're being ridiculous," Draco said impatiently. "He's just like my father. A bully. When you stand up to them they generally back down. Parkinson is probably just trying to find your backbone for you."

"So, if I stand up to him, he'll back down?"

"More than likely."

Ron nodded thoughtfully. The idea certainly had merit, and he had felt like telling the old coot to shut his mouth more times than he could count.

"Of course, there's also the chance that he'll go with his gut instinct and just kill you for such impertinence."

"Great," Ron mumbled, his fantasy-bubble bursting.

"Are we playing Quidditch or not?" Bill asked impatiently. Whatever Ron's problems were with Pansy's father they weren't going to be solved today, and the boys were anxious to get into the air.

"Yep, let's go!" Charlie stood up and headed for the field beyond the stone wall surrounding the yard.

Draco didn't waste any time leaving the table and hopefully the scrutiny of the other men. He may have successfully diverted the conversation away from himself for the time being, but they'd need time to forget it happened at all. Busy congratulating himself on his successful escape, Draco didn't hear someone come up behind him.

Bill grinned coldly when he felt Draco jump as his hand landed strongly on the blond's shoulder. "If I hear Drake spouting rubbish like that again, you and I are going to have a serious problem. Understand?"

Draco nodded to acknowledge he'd heard the threat. He could understand why they were upset. The fact that he had unlimited wealth gave him a distinct advantage when it came to providing for his children, and they would never be able to compete with that, so of course it was going to make them feel inadequate.

"Good." Bill clapped his brother-in-law on the back twice and then strode away from him.

Draco looked out into the field, suddenly thinking that flying with this lot might not be a great idea. One of them could knock him off his broom, and the girls would believe it to be an accident. They'd have no reason to question it, because it did happen from time to time. Any alternative scenario he came up with, if he weren't dead, would be dismissed as sour grapes.

"Come on, Draco," Charlie boomed, giving the man a little shove in the right direction. "Everyone's waiting to pick teams."

"Yeah," Draco uttered distractedly.

"Right," Bill bellowed to get everyone's attention. "Charlie and Harry can't be on the same team, and we need to take the boys into account as well."

"The same should go for Draco as well," Charlie added.

"Why?" Draco asked, feeling just a little insulted to have been added to the children.

Charlie looked at Draco incredulously. "You're a strong flyer and a Seeker as well, so we need to make sure the teams are even."

Bill looked at the group of wizards in front on him. "I'll take Fred, Harry, Ron and Beau. You can take the rest, Charlie."

"Excellent! That means we've got an extra."

"No, you haven't," Ron disputed drolly. "You've got Percy."

"An extra body on the pitch is always good," Charlie countered. "Are we using Bludgers?"

"No," Bill answered firmly. "Not with the boys up there."

"We can handle it, Daddy," Beau insisted.

"I'm not saying you three can't, but if something should happen — like your mother's seeing you in the air at the same time as a Bludger — you might find yourselves short a father figure and several uncles."

The three little boys sniggered into their hands.

"Right, my team, gather around," Charlie instructed as Bill led his team a short distance away. "Drake and Matthew, get in here nice and close, so you can hear."

The men moved around so the young boys were closest to Charlie and waited patiently for their self-appointed captain to start talking.

"With no Beaters in play, George, I'll get you to be the Keeper."

"No problem."

"Draco, you _were_ a Seeker at school, weren't you?"

"Yes."

"Do you still have your wits about you?"

"Of course."

"Good, you're playing Seeker."

Draco nodded, very pleased with the position.

"The rest of us are going to be Chasers." Charlie looked at Drake and Matthew. "Do you two know what you're supposed to do?"

"Yep! We put the Quaffle through the hoops," Matthew answered confidently.

"Excellent."

"Are you lot ready to lose a game of Quidditch?" Beau called cheekily.

Charlie turned around and regarded his nephew amusedly. He knew Bill had to have put the little boy up to saying something like that. "I'd watch yourself if I were you. We have no intention of losing to you lot."

"Well, you're going to," Beau retorted smartly.

"Oh, we are, are we?" Charlie challenged, approaching the little wizard and upending him over his shoulder in a hail of squeals. "You know your team isn't going to stand a chance against us, especially not once I tie you to the goal posts."

Beau's high-pitched protests filled the air.

"Charlie, what on earth are you doing?" Ginny asked as she entered the field.

"This cheeky little bugger thinks his team is going to win," Charlie stated.

"Oh, for goodness sakes, put him down before we all go deaf."

"I can't do that. I'm going to tie him to a goal post and see how well his team does then."

Ginny's hands drifted to her hips. "You can't do that on his birthday. Now put him down."

Charlie placed Beau back on the ground. "You're just lucky your Aunt Ginny saved you."

"Aren't they in the air yet?" Anya asked needlessly as she approached Ginny.

Beau took the opportunity to poke his tongue out fiercely at his uncle and sprint back to his father's side.

"No, they're too busy tormenting each other," Ginny responded.

"Well, you'd better get on with it, or you're going to have to call it off," Anya informed the men.

Shocked responses came from the men as they hurriedly prepared to get into the air.

"Before we start, there's one more rule," Bill yelled over the top of everyone. He waited until silence fell before continuing, "When the Snitch makes an appearance you three boys are to head for the ground. I don't want to see any of you in the air when Uncle Harry and Uncle Char—"

"Draco's our Seeker," Charlie interrupted.

Bill raised a curious eyebrow at his brother. "All right. When Uncle Harry and Uncle Draco are flying at breakneck speed, you three are to head for the ground. Clear?"

All three boys nodded and grumbled some form of discontented acquiescence.

"Ginny, can you release the balls?"

"I'll be right there," Ginny called, pausing to whisper something to Anya before making her way to the center of the ground. By the time she reached to battered box holding the balls, the wizards were all hovering about ten feet off the ground. "I don't need to remind you lot that if anything happens to one of the boys we'll be holding a mass execution, do I?"

"Mummy," Drake whined.

"They'll all be fine, Ginny," Draco assured her.

"It's just a friendly game of Quidditch," Bill added.

"We've seen your idea of a friendly game before," Ginny warned.

"Ginny, just release the balls," Ron urged.

"Fine, but consider yourselves warned," she said firmly. With a final glance at all the men Ginny released the Snitch, watching it soar into the air. When it had shown itself to Draco and Harry, and disappeared, she threw the Quaffle as high as she could into the air.

The opening minutes of the game were played hard and a few of the wizards were nearly unseated in the rush to gain first possession of the Quaffle. Draco kept a watchful eye on Drake, but he needn't have worried. The little boy was a fine flyer, and he had enough sense to stay out of the initial fray, unlike his two cousins, who both almost met the ground in an unpleasant way.

A panic-stricken Percy suddenly found himself in possession of the Quaffle. Aware of what his brothers would do to gain control of the ball Percy passed it off to the first voice he heard, despite not knowing to which team the player belonged.

With an excited whoop Drake took off in the direction of the goals, the Quaffle tucked tightly under his arm. He could hear his father yelling encouragement from above him and before long his Uncle Charlie was flying beside him, telling him to take it all the way to the hoops.

When Drake was only fifteen or twenty feet from scoring, a mad giggle filled his ears. A quick look over his shoulder confirmed what he suspected: Beau was catching him. Drake bided his time, checking every few seconds on his older cousin's progress, and waited for Beau to draw almost close enough to give him a solid bump. The moment the older boy began to move sideways towards Drake, the little blond wizard leaned close to his broom and sped off towards the goals, leaving his cousin hanging in the air with no one to bump.

Stunned by the unexpected fine display of broomsmanship from his nephew, Ron was caught off guard when Drake hurled the Quaffle through the left hand ring, scoring for his team. "That's the only one you're going to get, squirt," Ron bellowed, embarrassed a five-year-old had scored so easily against him.

Drake paid his cursing uncle no mind as he squealed jubilantly and accepted praise from his teammates. His Uncle Charlie slapped him on the back so hard he very nearly fell off his broom and would have if his father hadn't caught his arm.

"Well done, mate!" Draco beamed proudly at his heir.

"It was good, wasn't it, Daddy?"

"It was perfect!" Draco insisted. "I couldn't have done it better myself."

"When you lot are finished gloating, do you think we can get on with it?" Harry called. He desperately wanted to congratulate his godson on a brilliant move, but being on the opposing team he thought the better of it for now. After the game he'd let him know how proud he was of him.

"Right, everyone, get ready to do that again," Charlie yelled, as everyone took their positions. "Drake, don't be afraid to keep flying like that."

Drake lifted his chin arrogantly. "I'm not."

Charlie chuckled as he took his position. "Good."

The game continued at a furious pace until the Snitch made its appearance. Although the three young boys tried to pretend they had no idea that the golden ball was flying around, pursued by Harry and Draco, Bill and Charlie took no time in escorting them to the ground. Even Percy hovered a few feet off the ground, while his more adept brothers remained in the air.

Draco could feel the air wavering from the wings of the Snitch, it was so close to his hand. All he needed was another half an inch of distance and he'd secure a victory for the team. It was entirely possible, because Harry was on the other side of the home-built pitch. With care, he slid forward a little way on his broom, gradually closing the tiny distance between him and Snitch. He growled in frustration as the cheeky ball pulled ahead by a couple of inches. Again, he urged his broom to catch the ball and cautiously slipped forward a little further. Draco knew he had to make it a clean grab, because he was far too high off the ground to lunge at the Snitch and risk falling. Without warning, Harry bumped him off course. While he was trying to recover, Draco heard an exultant roar of victory from the opposing Seeker. Furious at the outcome Draco cursed all the way to the ground. The Snitch had been his — he had done the hard chasing and Potter had stolen it with an underhanded maneuver. It wasn't fair.

"Well played, everyone," Charlie reassured his team as they landed. He frowned when he witnessed his brother-in-law throw his broom aside and stalk over to the other team.

"Should we?" George asked, not missing Draco's actions.

"No, let him dig himself a nice hole," Charlie muttered. "Besides, Harry played dirty. He deserves to be told."

"Yeah, but Mum is going to—"

"And then he'll learn not to do it so openly," Charlie advised.

Draco pushed his way past Ron and headed straight for Harry. "Potter, that was filthy play."

"Was it?" Harry asked feigning innocence.

"You know coming in from the side is reprehensible."

Harry shrugged indifferently and grinned amusedly. "Oh, sorry."

"No, you're not," Draco snarled. The raven-haired wizard's attitude was augmenting his ire at a worrisome rate.

"I said I was," Harry rejoined, not bothering to hide his humor.

"You couldn't catch me fairly, so you had to cheat," Draco stated disgustedly. "What a fine example you're setting for the boys!"

"What is going on here?"

Draco spun around. He'd not realized his mother-in-law was standing directly behind him. He cringed as he noted that she didn't look terribly impressed. "Just discussing the game with Po—Harry."

"He's dirty, because he lost," Ron tattled.

"He cheated!" Draco fired back.

"Draco, we don't take these games seriously," Molly said calmly. "And we certainly don't accuse others of cheating. Harry would never do that."

"But—I—he—" Draco's voice failed him under her cool stare. He turned back to face Harry. "You have no integrity."

"Thank you," Harry called to the blond's retreating back.

"Well, that was a bit calm," George commented. "I was hoping for some excitement."

"I'll make a deal with you... You distract your mother and I'll give you some excitement," Draco snapped.

George looked at the infuriated wizard with merriment dancing in his eyes. "I was talking about Mum. She's definitely not herself today."

Draco looked at the man curiously. The jollity in George's eyes dissolved at once and a deep frown creased his brow. Draco didn't think he'd ever seen the man frown, but there was most definitely an expression of grave concern on his face now. Perhaps there was something not quite right with Molly?

"I think you should thank your lucky stars Mum didn't tell you off properly," Ginny said as her arm slid around her husband's waist.

"He cheated, Ginny. Potter _cheated_!"

"Well, technically it's not cheating," Ginny mentioned cautiously.

"It's not done! Not _right_!" Draco stepped away from her. "You _know_ that!"

"Yes, but it's not against the rules."

"Ginny, you're supposed to be on _my_ side!"

"I am," Ginny stressed. "Yes, it was a filthy tactic, but it's within the rules."

Draco snorted derisively and stalked away to retrieve his broom.

"Daddy?"

"Drake." Draco forced a smile for his son's sake.

"Did I fly good?"

"Yes, mate, you flew exceptionally." The smile Draco had forced onto his face changed into a genuine expression of pride. "I'm very proud of you."

Drake beamed up at his father.

Draco felt his temper begin to dissipate right away. A simple smile from his son was all it took to make his world right again. It didn't matter that Potter had used a deplorable tactic to win the game; Draco had something he didn't — a son who loved him unquestionably.

"I'm starving!" Drake announced suddenly. "Grandma, can I have some more cake?"

"May I," Draco corrected absently, "and you shouldn't yell across the yard like that."

With a muttered comment under his breath, Drake walked over to where Molly was being asked the very same question by some very hungry little wizards.

Draco shouldered his broom and wandered back to where Ginny was waiting. "Did you see the goal he got?"

"Yes, he flew well."

"Better than some of your brothers," Draco sneered.

"He's better than _Percy_, but that's hardly an achievement." Ginny smiled. "After all, anyone who's not afraid of the Quaffle is better than Percy."

Draco muttered something under his breath to the contrary. His son was going to whip his uncles' backsides in the air before long. With the talent he showed today there was no doubt in Draco's mind that he would make the house team and could even go on to a professional career, if he wanted.

"Come on, if you're hungry you'll have to hurry, or the kids will eat everything," Ginny encouraged.

"Rather go home," Draco mumbled.

"Well, I'm having a cup of tea before I go anywhere, so you may as well have something to eat."

"The house elves can make you a cup of tea at home," Draco offered.

"They can, but here I have good conversation to go with my tea," Ginny countered. "So, you're going to have to play nicely for a little while longer."

"I'll talk to you," Draco continued.

"I know, love, but I feel like some girl talk, and you're not so good at that."

He knew it was pointless to argue the point any further. Ginny wasn't ready to leave the Burrow and that meant they wouldn't be leaving just yet. The notion that he still had to 'play nicely' for an undetermined amount of time left a sour taste in his mouth. As far as he was concerned, Potter deserved no less than a pain-inducing hex hurled in his direction, and a lifetime ban from backyard Quidditch, so he never forgot what an appalling thing he did today. "Fine," he grumbled.

Ginny watched her husband stomp back to the Burrow. She knew he wasn't happy, but she was enjoying herself this afternoon and the party wasn't exactly over — they always had tea and cake after the Quidditch game. Besides, if he was to get over this anger he was better to stay and see that what happens on the pitch is left on the pitch.

"He'll settle down soon enough," Anya told her quietly.

"I hope so," Ginny mused aloud. "He's pretty angry."

"If he doesn't the afternoon is going to get exciting," Anya teased.

"That's exactly what I don't want to happen." Ginny sighed heavily. "I just have a feeling that they're just waiting for an excuse to have a go at him at the moment."

"The boys? Don't be silly," Anya scoffed, linking her arm with Ginny's and beginning to walk back to the house. "They love him."

Ginny rolled her eyes. Her brothers may love a lot of things, but her husband did not number among them. "Anya, I'm not silly, I know something was going on earlier."

"All right, maybe love is a bit of a strong word," Anya conceded. "They don't hate him anymore."

"That's a little more realistic."

"Ginny, they know what happens behind closed bedroom doors and that naturally bothers them, but apart from that they have no complaints. Draco looks after you and the twins. You want for nothing and never will. As for before, well they'll have to settle it between themselves. You can't keep butting in or they'll think he can't stand up for himself."

"I know, but it would just be nice if they could like him."

"Give them time," Anya assured her.

"Tea?" Angelina asked the two approaching women.

"We'd kill for one," Anya replied.

"Is there any birthday cake left?" Ginny enquired, looking around for any trace of chocolaty goodness.

"You might be lucky," Fleur answered. "Molly just took the last of it down to the men."

Ginny's eyes flew in the direction of the wizards gathered at the other end of the table. The plate was sitting in the middle of the table, and it was emptying at an alarming rate.

"Oh, bugger!" Ginny cursed when she finally reached the end of the table.

"What's wrong?" Bill asked casually.

"I wanted a piece of cake."

All eyes went to Draco, who was holding a generous slice of untouched chocolate cake. It had been the second to last piece that had left the plate. The very last had been snatched up by Ron and was now being stuffed unceremoniously into his mouth before someone could suggest he gave it up to his sister.

"She's your wife," Charlie whispered furtively into Draco's ear.

"There's another cake here!" Molly called as she placed an enormous plate on the table.

Draco's eyes lit up when his mother-in-law made her announcement. "There you go, love, you can have a fresh piece of cake."

Ginny looked at the cake Molly had put on the table and wrinkled her nose. "That's teacake. I feel like chocolate."

Draco looked at the delicious slice of cake. He loved chocolate cake, and he'd fast discovered that his mother-in-law had a talent for baking the treat. "The— err— teacake would be better for you, wouldn't it?"

"Better for me?" Ginny frowned. "How?"

George chuckled. "Yes, Draco."

"Tell us how," Fred encouraged.

"Well, the teacake isn't as heavy as the chocolate cake," Draco said uncertainly.

"This is going to be good," Ron mumbled through a mouthful of cake.

"Should we get the kids inside just in case she decides to flay him right away?" Harry asked, not bothering to hide his amusement.

"Nah, we can Obliviate them if necessary." Bill winked at the two best friends.

"Are you saying I'm fat?" Ginny asked sharply.

Draco looked around at the other men. There wasn't an ounce of support for him from any of them — even Percy's eyes were dancing with laughter. He took a deep breath and prepared himself to talk his way out of this mess, if it was at all possible. "Of course not, Ginny. You know I think you're beautiful."

"Beautiful, but fat," Ginny countered.

"NO!" Draco shook his head profusely. This was getting worse by the second and the not-so-subtle chuckling behind him wasn't helping matters. "You're pregnant, with my child, and that just makes you even more beautiful than you usually are. You are most definitely _not_ fat."

"Then why can't I have the chocolate cake?" Ginny posed seriously.

"There's none left," Draco pointed out.

"You have a piece."

He looked at the piece of cake in his hand again. The smell of the rich frosting was making his mouth water and he could already taste the smooth chocolate on his tongue. "Well, I—" Draco glanced around at the other men. All of them were nodding at the cake and then to Ginny meaningfully. He didn't want to give up his cake. Not to anyone.

"You haven't even started eating it yet," Ginny pointed out with a pout.

"Yes, well—"

"You could have the teacake instead."

Draco groaned and cursed silently as he handed over the cake. It wasn't like he had a choice, especially not after she accused him of calling her fat. "Here, you have this, and I'll have the teacake."

"Thank you," Ginny responded curtly, before returning to the women.

"Do you think he's out of it yet?" Charlie asked.

"Nope, he'll have to do penance when he gets home," Bill responded.

"What makes you think I will have to atone for anything when I get home?" Draco enquired haughtily. He'd had just about enough this afternoon and their implication that Ginny hadn't forgiven him for something he didn't do rubbed him the wrong way.

Bill rolled his eyes. His young brother-in-law had much to learn. "Shall I?"

"Please do," Charlie insisted. "I can't wait to hear his opinion."

Draco shot a filthy look at the two oldest brothers. They were so very amused at his loss of chocolate cake.

"You see, Draco," Bill started as he slung an arm around Draco's shoulders, "she wasn't smiling, even when you gave her the cake, she didn't smile."

"She's tired," Draco said, not really believing it himself, because Bill had suddenly begun to make sense.

Bill shook his head ruefully. "No, mate, she's angry. She still thinks you think she's fat."

"But I don't, I never have."

"I believe you." Bill looked at his brothers. "You believe him, don't you, boys?"

All the men answered in the affirmative, showing support for the blond wizard with great gusto.

Draco looked at them all as if they'd taken leave of their senses. He was beginning to feel like they were playing with his head. Their sudden support of him was astonishing.

"See, we all believe you, but she doesn't," Bill crooned caringly. "We know this, because we're her brothers and we've seen her do this before."

"Do what?"

"She'll let her unsuspecting victim think they're safe, and then when you least expect it, she'll pounce, and you'll be sneezing bats or worse before you even realize she's hit you."

"I really think my wife is above that level of behavior," Draco spat indignantly.

"With you, she probably is, because she has far more powerful weapons in her armory now."

"Such as?"

"That couch in your study... Is it comfortable?"

"Ginny doesn't kick me out of our chambers for anything," Draco responded strongly.

"Yeah, but you haven't called her fat before."

"I didn't—"

"I know and the boys know, but she doesn't believe you."

"She didn't make an issue of it."

"Because you gave her the cake."

"This is ridiculous!" Draco spat. "Ginny is not going to make an issue of this, because she knows I didn't call her fat."

"If you say so," Bill drawled. "But if I were you I'd keep my guard up."

Draco snorted derisively.

"And perhaps stow a pillow in your study before she goes to bed this evening."

The blond wizard rolled his eyes expressively. "I'm going to get some teacake, before the women eat it all."

The Weasley men held their laughter in for a few minutes, but once Ron gave into the urge to laugh the rest followed closely behind. Draco snarled and continued walking along the table to get some cake. Bill had gone from making sense to sounding insane, and as such Draco dismissed everything the man had tried to impress upon him. He had nothing to fear from his wife, and if she were still truly upset when they returned to the manor he would soothe her far easier there than he could here.

By the time he returned to where the men were gathered, they had made some effort to bring their humor under control. Draco sat down silently and ate his teacake. It was good, but not as good as the chocolate birthday cake he'd had in his hand. He had decided that he would give Ginny a little while and then insist that they return home, whether she wanted to or not, and if she still protested he wasn't above pretending he was ill to get her to move. Until then he was going to do his best not to interact with the other men. He feared that if he did he might actually lose his mind.

* * *

"Millie, where are you going with that pillow?" Ginny enquired curiously.

"Master did tell Millie to leave it in Master's study," the house elf answered obediently.

After sending the servant on her way, Ginny went back to her bedtime preparations. She was exceptionally tired after the party this afternoon and really wanted to go to bed.

When she'd completed her usual routine and Draco had still not made an appearance, Ginny went looking for her missing husband. It didn't take long to find him lounging in the family parlor listening to the Wizarding Wireless.

"Are you coming to bed?"

"Yes, love, I'll be up soon," Draco responded. "I'm just listening to the late news."

"Okay," Ginny muttered. "Well, I'm tired, so I'm going to go ahead."

"All right," Draco mumbled, concentrating on the wireless more than his wife.

As Ginny drifted towards the door slowly her thoughts turned to the pillow she'd asked Millie about. Could he be planning not to come to bed? After the afternoon they'd had she wouldn't be surprised if he was considering sleeping elsewhere. Her brothers had been particularly painful in a very devious way, and when she'd heard exactly what they'd done she'd been shocked that Draco hadn't exploded at the Burrow.

"Draco?"

"Mmm."

"Why did you tell Millie to take a pillow to your study?"

"Oh, you saw her?"

"Yes."

Draco sat forward in his chair and focused his attention of his wife. "It was something Bill said."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "And you listened to him?"

"Well, I wasn't sure," Draco admitted. "You had just accused me of calling you—well, you know."

She walked across to him and made herself comfortable on his knee. "I thought we cleared that up?" They'd had a long chat when they got home, and as far as she was concerned the air had been cleared between them.

"Just taking a few precautions."

"I wouldn't do that."

"I wasn't sure. Your moods have been a bit up and down lately."

"Even if I wasn't in a good mood I wouldn't kick you out of bed."

"Can I have that in writing?" Draco grinned cheekily. "It might be useful the next time your brothers try to plant ideas in my head."

Ginny playfully slapped his shoulder. "Come to bed."

"All right, I'm coming."

She lifted herself off his lap and waited for him to stand up. When his arm went around her, Ginny melted into his side. The body heat he was giving off was serving to make Ginny all the more drowsy. She was looking very forward to climbing into bed and falling asleep in the arms of her husband, who thought she was beautiful.

* * *

****

**_AUTHOR'S NOTES_**

_Thanks to Rainpuddle13 for her amazing beta skills and entertaining plot discussions._

_The date portion of this chapter was written for Hpbutterbeer when I did the Time Stamp Meme on Live Journal._


	9. Days Like These

**_Disclaimer_**_: I don't own any of the characters you may recognize from the wonderful world of Harry Potter, they all belong to the revered JK Rowling; I just like to play with them a little._

**CHAPTER NINE**

**DAYS LIKE THESE**

Ginny sat down, glad to get the weight off her feet for a little while, at least, and started to read _Witch Weekly_ while enjoying a cup of tea. It didn't seem fair that she felt so drained at eight-thirty in the morning, but then she hadn't slept well for days, and it was finally catching up with her, as it always would.

Her day had begun in the most hellish manner: Draco heading off extra early for a breakfast meeting and the twins being particularly finicky over breakfast. When she'd finally had enough of their behavior, Ginny had sent them away from the table in disgust. Millie was keeping a close watch on them while they played outside, but she knew they'd be back before long looking for something to satisfy their protesting stomachs. For now, she was going to enjoy the peace and quiet. It was days like these that she wished Draco wouldn't schedule such early meetings, so he could be here to at least see the children through breakfast. Still, she knew he did that so he could get home at a reasonable hour for dinner.

"Mistress, Ippy is sorry for disturbing Mistress." The elderly house elf bowed low enough to the ground to scrap his nose. "Mistress does has—"

Ron burst into the parlor, stepping over the servant and confronting his sister with panic in his blue eyes. "Ginny! Ginny, Mum's sick!"

"Ron, calm down," Ginny said slowly. "What's wrong?"

"Mum is sick!"

"I heard that. What's wrong with her?"

"She's pale and shaky, and she just doesn't look right. She's sick!"

"Was Dad home last night?"

"No, he was conducting raids."

"Ron, she probably didn't sleep all night."

"No, it's more than that. There's something wrong with her, Ginny."

"All right, you go to work, and I'll organize the twins, then I'll go and check on her."

"You don't want me to come back with you?"

"No, I'll be fine, and I'll let you know how she is after I've seen her." Ginny knew the last thing she needed was Ron looking over her shoulder when he was in such a state. Besides, Molly was probably just overtired and needed some sleep, which she wasn't likely to allow herself to do until Arthur had returned home. "Just go to work and try not to worry."

"Okay, but let me know—"

"The minute I know I'll contact you."

"Right, I'll be at the office then."

"Okay." Ginny smiled as her brother exited her parlor. She began counting the moment Ron was out of sight and got to fifteen before he reappeared.

"How do I get out of here?"

"Ippy!" Ginny ignored the bubble of laughter building inside of her. "Show my brother out."

"Yes, Mistress."

"Just follow Ippy, Ron, and I'll talk to you later."

"You know, you ought to have signs or something in the corridors."

"I'll talk to Draco about it," Ginny called after him.

She shook her head and sighed heavily. A trip to the Burrow wasn't exactly in the plan for the day, but it seemed like she had little choice. The first thing she had to do was find Narcissa, because if Molly was as tired as Ron was making out, she didn't want to be taking two energetic five-year-olds to the Burrow. As she walked to the northern wing, Ginny hoped Narcissa had no plans for the morning. She knew it wouldn't take long to ascertain that her mum was simply in need of a little rest, but she knew her mother wouldn't let her leave without having at least one cup of tea.

"Narcissa?"

"Ginevra, how lovely to see you, dear." Narcissa looked up from her morning tea. "You look a little tired."

"I'm not sleeping well at the moment."

"It's important for you to get your rest."

"Yes, but I can't get comfortable, so sleep is a little hard to find." Ginny smiled warmly at her concern. "I actually wanted to ask you to watch the twins for a short while."

"Are you going back to bed?"

"No, I have to go out."

"You can't leave the house looking like that, dear."

Ginny took a deep breath and reminded herself that Narcissa had very different values to her. "Ron called in; he's concerned that Mum's sick, so I promised I'd check on her right away. I don't want to take the twins just in case she is, though I'm sure she's just fine."

"Of course, dear, you must check on your mother. Where are the children?"

"They're either in the playroom or outside. Millie is with them."

"Don't worry about a thing."

"Thank you." Ginny smiled. "I shouldn't be long."

"Take as long as you need, dear," Narcissa insisted. "I'll just finish up here and go to the children. We might take a lovely stroll through the gardens."

Ginny left Narcissa's parlor, rubbing her face tiredly as she wandered back along the corridor. She wasn't exactly dressed to face the world, not that it mattered, because the Burrow wasn't exactly the world at large. The thought that she should take the time to run a brush through her hair crossed her mind — it was hanging in a messy bun down the nape of her neck — but thought the better of it, preferring to get to the Burrow quickly, so she could return home just as soon.

"Ippy, fetch my light traveling cloak and my handbag, please," Ginny uttered as she entered the foyer.

"As Mistress wishes."

_I'll go to check on Mum, and then I'll come home and try to rest,_ Ginny promised herself while she waited for the servant to return.

* * *

"Mum," Ginny called as she walked into her childhood home. "Mum?"

The kitchen was vacant, which in itself was unusual at this time of the day. Ginny wandered slowly through to the sitting room. Relief started to bloom inside of her when she spied her mother dozing in an armchair, but it was quickly replaced with a feeling of dread. Ron was right. Molly looked horridly ill.

Ginny approached her mother quietly, so as not to startle her, and kneeled down beside the chair. "Mum," she whispered, touching Molly's hand lightly.

"Oh, Ginny, dear." Molly blinked a few times and looked at her daughter's concerned face through sleepy eyes. "I didn't hear you come in."

"Ron said you weren't well."

"I'm fine... Just a little tired that's all. Your father worked all night, and you know I don't sleep well when he's not here."

"Mum, you've got no color in your face."

"Don't you start fussing. I had quite enough from Ronald this morning."

"He's worried about you."

"For no good reason," Molly insisted. "I could do with a cup of tea."

"I'll get it," Ginny offered quickly.

"Nonsense! I am capable of making tea," Molly maintained as she tried to stand up.

Ginny got to her feet, keeping a close eye on her mother. Molly took ages to stand up, and then she didn't seem all that stable. Ginny was about to insist that she sit back down when the older woman seemed to slip sideways. Pure reflex had Ginny reaching out, without regard for her own delicate condition, to stop her mother falling to the floor. Somehow, Ginny guided Molly back into the chair. It frightened Ginny to think that she'd only seen her mother two days ago and she'd only looked a little tired then. Whatever was wrong with her had taken hold quickly.

"Mum, I'm getting a Healer for you."

"I'm fine, Ginny, I just went a little dizzy for a moment. Nothing a cup of tea won't fix."

"You're not fine. Now you either let me Floo a Healer for you, or I'm going to tell the boys you're sick."

"Very well then." Molly sighed heavily. "Make an appointment for me this afternoon."

"You'll see one now, Mum."

"Ginny, you know it's impossible to get an appointment right away. I'll be lucky to get one today as it is. Besides, I need to shower before I go out."

"You're not going out."

"I can't afford a house call, Ginny."

"Don't worry about the cost, Mum, I'll pay for it."

"You might not be able to get—"

"Mum, I'll get someone to come. Do you still want a cup of tea?"

"Yes, please, dear."

"I'll make that for you, and then I'll see about a Healer."

Molly half-nodded as her eyes slipped closed. She was so very weary.

Ginny cast one last worried glance at her mother before leaving the sitting room. She'd never known Molly to be sick, not ever. Her mother had always been the strongest in the family — nursing everyone else when they got sick, healing wounds and generally being there whenever she was needed. Right now her pallor was what scared Ginny the most. Molly had always had rosy cheeks and a warm smile to greet everyone. Plus, she'd given in far too easily when Ginny insisted she saw a Healer as well. Her spark was definitely gone.

While she waited for the tea to brew, Ginny made a Floo call to Healer Wilson's office. The Healer's receptionist wasn't pleased by Ginny's demands that he come right away, but then she did something she didn't do often to get her own way — she used her married name to get the woman's attention. Once the other woman understood whom she was refusing, she couldn't do enough to help. It was enough to make Ginny's back bristle, but she doubted going off at the woman would achieve anything. Instead, she used her coldest, most superior voice to convey exactly what she expected to happen in the next five minutes.

Upon breaking the connection, Ginny poured her mother a cup of tea and returned to the sitting room. Molly appeared to be dozing again, so Ginny put the tea on the side table and didn't bother to wake her. Sleep could only be good for her, and if she could get a little before Healer Wilson arrived it would serve her well, she hoped at least. Ginny sunk into the chair next to Molly's and waited. The thought that she should Floo Narcissa and inform her that she was going to be a little longer than expected had crossed her mind when there was a resounding knock at the front door. She jumped up, a little startled, to answer the caller. It was so rare that anyone actually knocked at the Burrow, let alone on the front door, that Ginny had started towards the kitchen before turning back in the right direction.

"Healer Wilson, please come in," Ginny said politely.

"Mrs. Malfoy, a pleasure to see you again."

"May I take your cloak?"

"Thank you." The elderly Healer slipped gracefully out of his cloak and handed it to Ginny. "I understand your mother isn't quite well."

"No, she's right over here." Ginny indicated that he should follow her into the sitting room. "Thank you so much for coming on such short notice."

Wilson waved off the gratitude nonchalantly.

"Mum, Healer Wilson has arrived. You remember him from when I was a bit wobbly on my legs, don't you?"

"Oh, yes, of course." Molly smiled weakly. "Healer Wilson, thank you—"

"Mrs. Weasley, you certainly don't look well. I think we'll start with a preliminary examination and see if we can't get you back on your feet."

Molly nodded weakly.

Ginny watched her mother with ever-growing fear. It appeared she'd woken up from her little nap even weaker than before. She tried to tell herself it was because Molly was still half asleep, but deep-down Ginny knew it wasn't true.

"Mrs. Malfoy, I think your mother might like some privacy while we conduct our examination."

"Of course, I'll just be in the kitchen if you need anything," Ginny responded, a little shocked. "Don't let her fool you though, she nearly passed out before and she's very unsteady on her feet."

"I'm sure we'll get to the bottom of what is ailing your mother," he assured her, while shooing her out of the room and closing the door.

Ginny moved restlessly around the kitchen, tidying here and there in the already perfectly clean room. She sighed heavily as her eyes landed on the teapot. More for something to do, than actual desire, she poured herself a cup of tea and sat at the table. Her eyes wandered all over the room while she absently stirred her tea. She should have refused to leave the room when Healer Wilson suggested it. If she had, she'd know what was going on right now. Minutes were starting to feel like hours, and she was growing more anxious by the second.

The family clock held her attention for sometime. Ginny felt as though it was taunting her. Molly's hand was still pointing towards 'home', but the longer she stared at it the more certain she became that it was waiting for her to look away to move her mother's hand to 'mortal peril'. Of course, the hand didn't move when she averted attention for a few seconds to the door, which was opening slowly.

Ginny was on her feet, looking expectantly at the old wooden door as it swung open. The grave expression on the old wizard's face as he came into view sent a bolt of terror through her.

"Healer Wilson?"

"Mrs. Malfoy, please sit down, and we'll have a chat," Wilson said, reaching for a chair himself. "Is that pot of tea hot?"

"Umm—yes, I'll just get you a cup."

"Thank you."

Ginny silently retrieved a cup from the sideboard and filled it from the teapot. She placed it in front of the Healer with the sugar bowl and a jug of milk, and waited patiently while the wizard added his personal touches to his beverage.

"Your mother is quite ill," Healer Wilson started, placing his teaspoon on the saucer. "It was good that you summoned me directly."

"What's wrong with her? Mum has never been sick."

"From the looks of it she has a severe case of Dragon Influenza, and it's starting to turn exceptionally nasty."

"But she's not sneezing or coughing," Ginny countered as her mind tried to make sense of what she was hearing.

"No, but from what I gather she's not been feeling well for some weeks. I'd place a bag of Galleons on the fact that she's been sneezing and coughing for a couple of weeks, but no one has noticed or she's hidden it well. She's now at the stage where she can no longer hide the symptoms as the virus starts to attack her whole body."

"Oh God, how could we have missed it."

"It's not difficult, Mrs. Malfoy." Healer Wilson reached over and patted her hand. "You all have your own homes and your own busy lives."

"What can we do?"

"The first thing I'm going to do is admit her to St. Mungo's for some additional tests and strict bed rest. I have the feeling that if I allow her to remain home she won't rest nearly enough to get well again."

Ginny took a deep breath to calm her thoughts, which had begun racing. "All right, we'll need to make the arrangements then."

"Leave the hospital to me. I have an emergency Portkey in my bag, so don't worry about transportation, but you might like to contact your father and advise him of what is happening."

"Yes, of course."

"You might also like to have a word with your mother... She's adamant she's not going to hospital."

"I'll try." Ginny wondered just how she was supposed to convince Molly to go quietly if she was really opposed to the idea.

"It's important that she doesn't get too excited," Wilson reminded Ginny. "She becomes a little breathless when she does."

Ginny nodded and sighed heavily. "I'll have a word with her now, so you can get her there soon."

"Whether she agrees in the end or not, she will be going to hospital, I'd just rather she went of her own volition."

"Of course," Ginny murmured, before leaving the wizard in the kitchen.

She paused just inside the doorway of the sitting room to take a deep breath. Molly looked, if it was possible, even more dreadful than when she'd left her. Her eyes were closed and her cup of tea sat untouched on the small table beside her. There was a sickly gray hue about her face and made Ginny's stomach knot with worry.

Ginny touched Molly's arm gently. "Mum."

"Ginny, I don't want to go to the hospital."

"You don't have a choice," Ginny said gently. "Healer Wilson said you're very sick, and he needs to run some more tests. He wants you to go of your own will, because getting excited about it won't do you any good."

"I don't want to go," Molly repeated. Her usually commanding tone was lost, and it came out as a pitiful whine.

"Mum, he's willing to transport you against your will, and I will let him do it, but I'd prefer if you'd just agree." Ginny watched her mother's face for any sign of rebuke or even compliance. "It's for your own good. You need to get well again."

"Who's going to cook dinner for your father?"

"Don't worry about Dad; I'll make sure he's fed." Ginny smiled as shadows of her mother started to push through the ill woman in front of her.

"What about Ronald? He'll be expecting—"

"Whatever Ron is expecting, Pansy can take care of," Ginny insisted.

"Oh, Ginny, she can't cook."

"Then I'll cook for him," Ginny assured her. "Are you ready to go?"

"I don't have—"

"I'll put together a bag for you and bring it with me."

Molly sighed tiredly. She didn't have the energy to keep fighting or talking for that matter.

"I'll let Healer Wilson know you're ready to go." Ginny patted her mother's hand before returning to the kitchen. In a way, she was glad Molly was too weak to put up much of a fight, because she knew there was no way she could have convinced her to go if she had the strength to argue her case properly.

"I take it you were successful?" Healer Wilson asked.

"Yes, somewhat." Ginny sighed. "She'll go, but begrudgingly."

"That's good enough for me." The old wizard smiled gently at the younger woman. "You mustn't worry yourself either. We don't want you getting sick as well."

"I'm fine." Ginny offered the man a small smile.

Wilson nodded, not entirely convinced. "Well, then, we'll see about getting your mother to the hospital."

"Yes, while she's sort of agreeable would be better."

"Are you going to travel with her?"

"I was going to put together a bag for her and follow, if that's all right."

"It's fine, Mrs. Malfoy. I'll be with her for a few hours at least, and I'll assign one of my private nurses to her bed, so she gets the best of care."

"Thank you."

Ginny followed the Healer back to the sitting room. He fiddled in his bag for a little while and then produced what she presumed was the Portkey — a small wand and bone fused together in a cross.

"Are we ready to go, Mrs. Weasley?" Healer Wilson asked, though the question was rhetoric, because Molly didn't have a choice. "We'll get you settled in no time, and then we can concentrate on getting you back on your feet."

"Ginny?" Molly uttered uncertainly.

"I'll be there soon, Mum. I'm just going to pack a few things for you, and I'll follow you. Healer Wilson is going to be with you until I get there," Ginny assured her quietly.

"Your father—"

"I'll Floo him the moment you're on your way."

"I think we'll have a traveling cloak around her shoulders before we transport, just to ward off the chill," Healer Wilson suggested.

"I'll just grab it," Ginny offered, rushing to the kitchen to retrieve Molly's cloak from the hook by the back door. When she returned Healer Wilson was having a quiet word with her mother. She stood aside and waited until he'd finished.

"Ah, we'll get that on her, and we'll be away," Wilson said cheerily when he spied Ginny with Molly's cloak.

Ginny stepped forward to help Molly into her cloak. It was then that her mother's weakness really hit home. Molly could hardly lift her own arms up and she had great difficulty sitting forward. It was as if she'd now allowed herself to admit just how sick she was and had given into the illness.

"We'll see you soon, Mrs. Malfoy," Healer Wilson said as he picked up his bag and held the Portkey out to Molly.

"I'll be right behind you," Ginny promised.

Within seconds both Healer Wilson and Molly had vanished from the sitting room. Ginny's heart started to hammer in her chest, and she felt tears welling in her eyes. Furious with herself she swiped at her face to remove the threat of spillage and made her way upstairs. This was not the time to start behaving like a baby who wanted her mother. This was the time to step into her adult role and take control. First she'd pack a bag for her mother and then she'd Floo her father.

* * *

St. Mungo's was a bustling hive of activity, and Ginny took quite sometime to find out which ward her mother had been admitted to, then even longer to get up to the second floor, as the staircase was crowded. She breathed a sigh of relief as she stepped into the ward. The crush of the stairs was starting to make her feel a little giddy.

Arthur was waiting a short way down the corridor. Ginny had never seen him looking more anxious. Gone was the mischievous twinkle in his eyes that was more a part of him than even his red hair. It did nothing to help her feeling of dread.

"Dad?"

"Ginny, love." Arthur embraced his daughter briefly and kissed her cheek.

"Have you seen her yet?"

"No, they're just getting her settled."

"It won't take long," Ginny said reassuringly. "Did Ron come with you?"

"He and Harry were called out before you told me."

Ginny nodded. "Don't worry, I'll let them know just as soon as I've seen Mum."

"And the rest of the family."

"Yes, I'll contact everyone," Ginny muttered absently.

A nurse exited a nearby room and smiled encouragingly at Arthur. "Mr. Weasley, you can see your wife now."

"Thank you," Arthur said almost silently.

The nurse looked Ginny up and down critically. "Who might you be?"

"I'm his daughter."

"I suppose you can go in for a short time. Mrs. Weasley needs her rest."

Ginny snorted. "I'd like to see her keep the boys out," she said to her father, not bothering to keep her voice low.

"There's more? Will more visitors be coming?"

"My brothers, their wives and probably a load of grandchildren," Ginny answered succinctly.

"How many people are we expecting?" the nurse asked hesitantly.

"Dad, why don't you go in and see Mum. She's probably dying to see you." Ginny waited until her father was out of earshot before turning back to the nurse. "I should think there would be no more than twenty or so."

"Oh no, this won't do. I'll be speaking to Healer Wilson about this," the nurse claimed haughtily.

"Speak to whomever you need to, it won't change the fact that you won't keep the family away from her, and to do so would be detrimental to her health," Ginny responded heatedly.

"Mrs. Malfoy, there you are. Your mother has been asking after you," Healer Wilson said as he entered the corridor. "Your father said you were having a few words with my nurse."

"This is _your_ nurse?" Ginny pointed at the woman in the lime green robes beside her.

"Yes, this is Beatrix Abercrombie, one of my best nurses." Wilson beamed at the two women.

"That's debatable," Ginny muttered under her breath.

"Beatrix, this is Mrs. Malfoy," Wilson continued oblivious to the tension between the two women.

The nurse raised her eyebrows at Ginny in a derisive way.

"You know, I remember treating your father-in-law when he was just a lad," Wilson said to Ginny. "The scrapes young Lucius used to get into... I could tell you many a tale." The old man shook his head as memories started to invade his thoughts.

"Perhaps I'll take you up on that sometime," Ginny responded. "A little bit of sensitive information is always a handy thing when dealing with Lucius."

Beatrix cleared her throat meaningfully. "Mrs. Malfoy has just informed me that her family is quite sizable and that they will _all_ be visiting."

"Of course, anything this family wants you make sure certain they get it."

The nurse sniffed back her objection and excused herself immediately. Ginny couldn't suppress the self-satisfied smirk that crept over her face. She knew it was simply her married name that was earning her this attention, but like before if it got her mother what she needed then she was prepared to shout it from a mountaintop, if necessary.

"I'll let you go and see your mother now." Healer Wilson patted her arm. "Beatrix will be in and out, so if there's anything you or your mother need just let her know."

"Thank you, Healer Wilson." Ginny smiled warmly. She watched the wizard shuffle away and then walked into her mother's hospital room. "Hello, Mum, how are you feeling now?"

"Ginny, I'm so glad you're here," Molly said quietly. "I don't like this thing they've put on me."

Molly was weakly tugging at the hospital issue gown she'd been forced to wear. She knew they weren't all that comfortable at the best of times, let alone when a person wasn't feeling well. "I've brought you a nightie from home, so when your nurse comes in we'll ask her if you can change."

"Mmm... Beatrix is lovely," Molly muttered tiredly.

"Yes," Ginny answered absently. She highly doubted 'lovely' was an apt description. "Why don't you get some rest while we're waiting, Mum?"

"The boys?"

"Once we've got you settled properly, I'll start contacting them." Ginny smiled for her mother's sake.

"I want my boys," Molly persisted.

"I know, but we'll make sure you're right first. You wouldn't want them coming in and having to wait to see you, because you're changing."

"Ask Beatrix now," Molly insisted.

"I'll see if I can find her," Ginny promised, cursing under her breath. She sighed mentally as she left the hospital room. Realization of just what corner of hell she'd stumbled into was just beginning to dawn upon her. There was a reason Molly never got sick — she was a dreadful patient.

She stood still just outside her mother's room, collecting her thoughts for a moment. Beatrix Abercrombie was just down the corridor at the nurses' station. Ginny could feel the woman's eyes burning through her. It was going to take a great amount of control to deal with her, but she would do it for her mother's sake, though if the woman continued to irk her, she might just be tempted to hex her just for her own satisfaction.

"Beatrix," Ginny called, approaching the older witch. "My mother was wondering if she could change into one of her own nightgowns. The hospital gown she has on is uncomfortable."

"I suppose." The woman sighed impatiently. "I'll be in soon to assist her."

"Thank you," Ginny answered curtly.

As Ginny walked back to Molly's room, she could hear the nurse complaining about her to the others around the small office. It wasn't like it mattered, because Ginny knew she couldn't or wouldn't refuse her anything. When she reached the door, she turned and looked expectantly at Beatrix, who was still gossiping with the other nurses. She smirked as the woman rolled her eyes and began walking towards her. If nothing else, Ginny was going to have a grand time tormenting this hag of a woman.

"Beatrix is on her way, Mum," Ginny announced softly as she approached Molly's bed. "I'll get your nightie out. Which one would you prefer: the blue or the white?"

"The white one, dear," Molly responded in a whisper.

Ginny pulled her mother's white nightie from the bag she brought with her and placed it on the end of her bed just as the door swung open to admit the nurse.

"Let's get you changed, Mrs. Weasley. These hospital gowns are terribly uncomfortable." The woman shook her head in mock disgust. "You'd think someone would have come up with something far nicer by now."

"I just want to be in my own—"

"Understandably so," Beatrix cut Molly off merrily. "Now, Mr. Weasley and Mrs. Malfoy, why don't you two wait outside while I get our patient comfortable?"

"I don't think so," Ginny growled. She couldn't believe the change in this woman's demeanor. It was like she had a split personality.

"I rather think Mrs. Weasley would be more comfortable if she had some privacy," Beatrix insisted. "No one likes to get undressed in front—"

"They've been married for _thirty-seven years!_ I _really_ think he's seen her naked before now," Ginny retorted venomously. Her own weariness was beginning to get the better of her temper.

"Ginny, love, it's all right. We can step out for a moment," Arthur mumbled quietly.

"No, Dad, it's not all right." Ginny folded her arms stubbornly across her chest and glared at the nurse, daring her to disagree. "Sit down, you're not going anywhere."

Beatrix glowered at Ginny, but went about getting Molly changed into her own nightwear without another word. Once Molly was settled again, Beatrix whispered a few quiet words to her and took her leave.

"That woman is—" Ginny left her opinion of the nurse unspoken. She feared if she got started on the name calling her hand might begin twitching for the comforting feel of her wand.

"She's lovely," Molly supplied. "So caring and gentle."

"I might go and Floo the boys now," Ginny said tightly. If she stayed here much longer listening to how her mother thought that woman was 'just lovely' she felt she might just lose her mind.

"Tell them not to fuss," Molly instructed.

"I will, Mum." Ginny leaned forward and kissed Molly's cheek. "Do you want me to get your anything, Dad?"

Arthur shook his head.

"I'll be back soon then. Mum, why don't you get some rest while I'm gone?" Ginny suggested.

Molly smiled softly at the suggestion and allowed her eyes to slip closed.

* * *

Ginny stepped out of the elevator and walked slowly down the corridor. Employees who recognized her called out polite greetings, but all Ginny could manage was a weak smile in response to each. Her thoughts were in turmoil. She knew her brothers weren't going to take the news well and thinking of a gentle way to break it to them seemed beyond her capabilities at the moment. Her emotions threatened to escape and again she reined them in, refusing to let herself cry. She had to stay strong and do what she needed to do. Of course, it was easier to keep her emotions in check when she was at the hospital, where Molly kept her too busy to think about how she was actually feeling.

"Ginevra, what brings you here today?"

Ginny's eyes snapped up in the direction of the voice. She'd been so lost in her thoughts that she'd failed to notice her father-in-law watching her progress down the corridor. "Luc—"

Lucius' eyes bulged in horror as his daughter-in-law dissolved into tears before him. "Ginevra?"

Ginny collapsed against Lucius' chest and wept vociferously.

"Yes, well—" Lucius patted her back mechanically. He was well aware that people were staring at them with open curiosity, and his need to basically run away was making his legs twitch. "Ginevra, I'm going to walk you down to my office."

Ginny didn't acknowledge his words, but allowed herself to be led blindly to the privacy of the office. Now that she'd started crying it seemed she couldn't stop.

Once behind closed doors, Lucius artfully extracted himself from her grasp and sat her down in a comfortable chair. He passed her his handkerchief in the hope that she might attempt to pull herself together, but she simply continued weeping into the expensive cloth. The staff was going to have a field day with what just happened. No one had ever seen him exercise compassion before, and he was certain news of this hidden ability had already reached every department.

"Come now, Ginevra, surely nothing is worth all this fuss," Lucius muttered uncomfortably. "Perhaps you could calm yourself enough to talk, and we could work out a solution."

Her breath started to hitch, and Lucius relaxed a little as she seemed to be stemming the flow of tears, but then they suddenly increased again. He was stuck, it seemed, with a very upset woman and he had no idea why.

"All this upset isn't good for you or the baby, Ginevra. You _must_ calm yourself down," Lucius insisted. When she showed no further signs of bringing herself under control, Lucius cautiously backed up to his office door and cracked it open just a little. He cleared his throat subtly to garner his secretary's attention. "Get Draco _immediately_."

"Yes, sir."

"Tell him she's very upset."

"Yes, sir."

Lucius nodded and closed the door. He could trust his own secretary to not gossip about his ineptness in this situation. Besides it wasn't anything she didn't already know. She'd been with him for many years, and with the company for even more. Only Narcissa knew him better.

With a heavy sigh, Lucius drew a chair to sit opposite Ginevra. He was on his own until Draco arrived and would do his best to calm her down for the sake of his own sanity, if nothing else. In an attempt to offer her some comfort, Lucius reached out and patted her hand awkwardly. It wasn't the first time Lucius had had to deal with Ginny's tears, but at least when Angel and Draco were in hospital he knew what the problem was and could offer assistance immediately. This feeling of uselessness wasn't sitting well with him, and he just wished she'd bring herself under control, so they could get to the bottom of the problem.

Possible scenarios began floating through his mind. All of a sudden he became aware that this level of distress could only signal a serious problem. His thoughts turned to the children and Narcissa, and he realized he desperately needed to know what was upsetting Ginevra.

"Ginevra, you _must_ tell me what the problem is," Lucius demanded. "Is it the children?"

A slight shake of her head sent a flood of relief through him.

"Narcissa? Is _she_ all right?"

He relaxed a little when she nodded. If Narcissa and the twins were all right, then whatever the problem was it didn't affect him directly. His thoughts turned to where his son might be at this moment. It seemed like an eon since he'd sent his secretary after him.

* * *

Draco leaned back in his chair and regarded the men sitting opposite him confidently. He knew they were close to signing. All he needed to do now was sit back and wait.

"This deal is only for a year," one businessman questioned.

"We will reconsider after six months of successful trade. I believe that clause is on page two, paragraph nineteen," Draco responded impassively.

"I'd be a lot happier if we could negotiate a two year deal now," the businessman stated.

"This particular timeframe is not only to protect Malfoy Holdings, but to also look after your interests," Draco pointed out. "After all—"

"Mr. Malfoy, I'm terribly sorry for the interruption."

Draco's eyes snapped up to the door. His father's secretary was standing near the half-open door, looking very ill at ease. "My apologies, gentlemen," he intoned sincerely as he stood up.

"I'm so sorry," the woman whispered as Draco walked towards her.

"What is it?" Draco hissed in a low dangerous tone.

"Your father asked me to fetch you. It's Mrs. Malfoy... She's dreadfully upset."

"Tell my father I am in a business meeting, and he will have to deal with mother on his own."

"Oh no, it's not your mother, Mr. Malfoy. It's your wife."

Draco's eyes opened wide with shock. "Ginny's upset?"

"Yes, sir. She showed up here a short time ago and just burst into tears the moment she saw your father."

Draco glanced over his shoulder at the two men sitting at his desk. This meeting was important, and he was so close to closing the deal. With a mental groan, he walked back to his desk. "Gentlemen, unfortunately, I've had an urgent family matter arise unexpectedly."

"You're leaving?"

"I would like to think we could reschedule this meeting at a time convenient to all of us. Please accept my deepest apologies." Draco inclined his head politely and backed out of the office.

"Would you like me to—" Draco's secretary started.

"Get in there, and do what you can to make them happy," Draco growled. "And make _certain_ you reschedule this meeting!"

"Th—" Lucius' secretary began.

"Where is she?"

"Your father's office."

Draco snarled his frustration and stalked up to his father's office. He couldn't believe Lucius had even thought it was acceptable to disturb him while he was going through their final offer with a client. By the time he reached the door to his father's office, his temper was peaking. Draco flung the door open so hard that it bounced off the wall and almost hit him in the face as he stepped over the threshold.

All of a sudden his anger melted and was replaced by the frosty feeling of fear. Ginny was bawling her heart out, and Lucius simply looked forlorn. He stepped forward again, and then Ginny was flinging herself into his arms, crying even harder than she was when he first entered.

"Father?"

"I don't know. I haven't been able to get much out of her. Your mother and the twins are all right."

Draco nodded and concentrated on comforting his distraught wife. First he would calm her down, and then he would endeavor to discover what was going on. Once he knew that they'd be able to deal with the problem and, hopefully, avoid any further tears. For the time being he simply held her and let her cry. He'd learned it was usually best to let her get it out of her system before trying to get her to talk.

Aside from making all the perfunctory soothing sounds, he felt he should make when she was like this, Draco guided her over to the little used sofa in the corner of his father's office. He managed to sit her down, and then sit himself beside her without too much trouble. In the state she was in, he knew it was going to take a while to calm her down, so he could make sense of the situation. She clung to him sobbing into his chest for the longest time.

He listened carefully to her breathing and when she began to slow Draco started to talk very softly. "Ginny, tell me what's wrong, love."

"I—Mum—"

"Take a deep breath," Draco encouraged calmly.

She breathed in deeply, and then slowly released the air.

"Tell me, what's upset you?"

"Mum's sick."

"All right," Draco answered slowly. "Bill thought she wasn't looking well yesterday."

"She's in hospital."

"Hospital?" Draco was shocked. Molly certainly hadn't looked _that_ sick the day before. "What's wrong with her?"

"Dragon Influenza." Ginny started sobbing again. "She looks so—"

"Shh, it's all right, love," Draco crooned. "This is nothing that can't be fixed. It will do her good to get some rest, and hospital is the best place for her."

"I—I have to tell the boys."

"Why don't we go down to my office and you can Floo them from there?"

"How am I going to tell them? They're not going to take it well."

He'd never seen her look so lost. This stranger, who was pleading with him to fix this problem, had replaced the strong woman he married. "I'll tell them, love."

"Draco, perhaps it would be better if you stayed here," Lucius suggested. "I'm sure Ginevra doesn't wish to be paraded through the office again when she's in such a state."

"Thank you, Father."

"I'll order some tea, and then give you some privacy."

Draco nodded slightly to acknowledge his father's offer. They might be at war with one another, but one of the women was hurting, and that was more important than their petty differences. He waited until Lucius had slipped out of the room before turning his attention back to his wife. "We'll stay here and make the Floo calls. You're going to have to give me all the details, because you know your brothers are going to want to know everything."

She nodded against his chest and sniffed loudly.

"Why don't you go wash your face, and then you can tell me everything before I make the Floo calls?" Draco suggested softly.

With Draco's assistance Ginny got to her feet and walked over to the private bathroom adjoining Lucius' office. Once she was safely inside, Draco released a loud sigh. This was not what he needed today.

"Is she all right?" Lucius asked, placing a tea tray on his desk.

Draco raised a curious eyebrow at his father. He didn't think he could ever remember a time when he'd seen Lucius do something so menial.

"I thought it better not to allow anyone else in for Ginevra's sake," Lucius offered.

"Thank you."

"And Ginevra?"

"She'll be all right. I think it's just a bit much for her to deal with at the moment." At least Draco hoped that was what it was, because he really didn't have any idea.

"I'll be in the boardroom should you require me."

Draco acknowledged the offered assistance with a curt nod and watched his father escape. A couple of uncharitable thoughts drifted through his mind as the door closed.

By the time Ginny emerged from the bathroom, Draco had a cup of tea ready for her. Even though she appeared calmer, she looked tired and pale. It worried him.

"Come and sit down, love," Draco suggested, guiding her back to the sofa. "You can tell me everything over a cup of tea, and then I'll contact your brothers."

Ginny settled herself on the sofa and murmured a vague 'thank you' when Draco passed her a cup of tea.

He gave her a few minutes to relax and enjoy the tea. There was a small sliver of hope that she wouldn't cry while giving him the details, but he wasn't fool enough to think he could bet on it.

"Now, start at the beginning and tell me everything, so I can answer any questions your brothers might have," Draco said gently.

Ginny took a deep breath and then launched into the events of the morning, starting with Ron's impromptu visit. She paused a few times to gather her emotions, and Draco didn't press her to continue until she felt ready.

"Mum's never been sick before," Ginny said, her distress clearly indicated in her tone. "She looks just awful... So weak and—"

"Shh, love, she'll be just fine. She's in the hospital and they'll take good care of her. I'll speak to Healer Wilson myself to ensure she receives the best of care," Draco crooned.

"I've just never seen her like that before," Ginny whispered. "Mum's always been so strong."

"And she will be again," Draco assured her. "I'll get you some fresh tea, and then I'd best get my head in the fire."

"I should tell them."

"Nonsense! I won't have you upsetting yourself like that again. It doesn't matter who tells them, just as long as they're told," Draco said firmly. "You stay right there."

Ginny opened her mouth to argue, but he patted her hand resolutely and went to pour her another cup of tea. She closed her eyes and leaned back into the soft leather. Draco was right. It didn't matter who told the boys, and besides she still didn't know how to tell them anyway. Her eyes fluttered opened when she heard the chink of china close by.

"You're going to put your feet up for a little while," Draco ordered, as he lifted her legs and pivoted her around on the seat. "Your tea is on the side table."

"Thank you," Ginny uttered sleepily. She really shouldn't have closed her eyes, because it had only served to remind her how very tired she felt.

Draco took one last glance at her before crossing the office to make the Floo calls. She looked so helpless and sounded even worse. He'd do anything, promise her anything, to erase that vulnerable tone in her voice.

After five Floo calls and dealing with various degrees of disbelief, outrage and anguish, Draco's head was virtually spinning. Ginny was right in believing her brothers weren't going to take the news well. They were all devastated and he'd quickly turned from messenger into counselor.

When he'd told Bill, the man had berated himself for several minutes for not following through when he'd noticed something was amiss with his mother. All Draco could do was remind him that Molly would have denied feeling unwell anyway, so the result would have been the same, even if he had pursued the matter.

Charlie was a little easier, even if he did panic momentarily about getting the entire family to London that day. In the end, he promised Draco he'd get there early in the afternoon, with or without Anya and the children. Draco thought, privately, that without would have been better.

Percy had seemed almost annoyed when he realized he'd be expected to go to the hospital. Draco assured him that Molly would have more than enough visitors if he was unable to get away from the Ministry, but he still begrudgingly agreed to attend St. Mungo's immediately.

The twins disturbed him greatly. It was so rare that they were serious about anything, so to see their identical somber expressions was quite disturbing. They'd hardly given him time to explain fully before telling him they'd meet him at the hospital.

Ron had almost started bawling the minute Draco mentioned the hospital. It had put Draco off balance for a couple of minutes, and then Ron disappeared, only to be replaced by Harry.

After giving Harry all the details, Draco sat back in his father's chair and rubbed his face wearily. One wouldn't think that making five Floo calls could be so draining, but the Weasley brothers had certainly taken all his energy. Safe in the knowledge that his brothers-in-law were all converging on St. Mungo's right at this minute, Draco turned his attention back to his wife.

Ginny appeared to be napping peacefully, so he stayed where he was for the time being. Her emotional state had worn her out, and if she could get even a few minutes sleep he was certain she'd be in a better frame of mind. He knew she'd want to return to the hospital soon, and there was no way he was allowing her to go alone, not in her state. Draco started to mentally go through everything that would require attention today, and when the list got too long for him to remember, he picked up his father's heavy quill. He leaned back in the chair, twirling the fancy quill around his fingers, to gather his thoughts before committing anything to paper. A moment later he cursed as the quill fell from his hand, bounced off his chest and landed with a thud on the desk.

"Draco?"

"I thought you were sleeping." Draco cursed himself for even thinking about picking up the damned quill.

"I drifted off," Ginny admitted. "Did you get a hold of everyone?"

"Yes, they're all heading to the hospital."

"What about Narcissa? Is she all right with the twins?"

"I'm sure she's fine."

"I told her I wouldn't be long."

"Don't worry about Mother. I'll have Father check on her," Draco replied as he crossed the office. "If need be, he or I can go home."

"I should get back to the hospital."

"I'll come with you," Draco said firmly. He knew it would have been useless to ask her to rest for a while before returning, so the least he could do is go with her to keep a close eye on her. "Just give me a couple of minutes."

"You don't have—"

"I'm coming."

"Thank you."

"I'll be right back."

Ginny acknowledged him with a small nod and allowed her eyes to slip closed again as Draco left the office.

* * *

The scene in the corridor at the hospital made Draco want to run in the opposite direction. It was full of redheads, who seemed intent on arguing every point with anyone, even each other. Ginny groaned unhappily beside him.

"Maybe we could sneak away," Draco whispered hopefully.

"And leave them to spill blood all over the floor?"

"Do they do this often?"

Ginny sighed heavily. "Only when they're afraid."

Draco raised an eyebrow in question. He really couldn't imagine any of his brothers-in-law as being afraid of anything. After all, they were all cursed with that foolish Gryffindor bravery.

"Ginny!"

All of a sudden Draco found himself pushed over to the wall as his wife's brothers converged on her. They appeared to be all seeking some sort of solace and reassurance. Try as he might, he couldn't find his way back to Ginny's side to protect her from the onslaught of questions and rib-breaking embraces. He could hear some of the questions and comments that were bombarding Ginny, but he didn't know if she was responding.

"I'd stay out of the way, if I were you," Harry commented quietly.

"They're going to hurt her," Draco hissed as he tried once more to slip between two burly redheads.

"No, they won't and you know it," Harry said, pulling the blond away. "They just need some sort of assurance that Molly's going to be all right."

"Perhaps they ought to speak to her Healer then."

"They will, in time, but for now they need to hear it from Ginny," Harry assured him.

Draco frowned at the bespectacled wizard beside him. His calm was upsetting him even more. "Why?"

"She's the only female Weasley, apart from Molly, and Molly has always solved things for them, so now they're looking to Ginny to do the same."

"Don't they realize how upset she is about all of this? She's been beside herself!" Draco snarled.

"And they'll comfort her if she gets upset, but my bet is that she won't," Harry countered. "She'll be too busy allying their fears to give her own feelings any thought."

All of a sudden Draco could see Ginny, and as much as he hated to admit it, she looked fine. She was hugging Ron and even had a comforting smile on her face. Her eyes were bright, and he could see that she was back in control of her emotions.

"See," Harry whispered.

Draco didn't respond. There was no way on earth he was going acknowledge to Potter that he'd been right. He folded his arms over his chest and leaned back against the wall with a sulky expression on his face. A few moments later silence fell over the corridor and Draco could finally hear what Ginny was saying.

"Mum is really tired, so you'll all have to be quiet when you go into see her. Her nurse is a cow and didn't even want me to go in earlier, so don't think she won't try to throw you out if she gets a reason."

"How about we make it a quick visit then, boys?" Bill asked.

Charlie nodded seriously. "Yeah, Mum needs to rest, so there's no point in us keeping her awake."

"We'll just check on her and let her get some rest," Bill confirmed.

Like sheep, all the men followed Ginny into Molly's hospital room. By the time Draco and Harry entered the room, they were filing past their mother, each kissing her cheek and embracing her gently. Apart from Molly's soft whisper you could have heard a pin drop. Draco had thought they'd been a mess when he initially told them about Molly being admitted to St. Mungo's, but he realized he was wrong; they were a mess now. All of the men looked pale and shaken. Fear was predominant in each set of eyes in the room.

When Draco finally looked to the hospital bed, Harry was just greeting Molly. He wasn't prepared for what he saw when the raven-haired Auror stepped back. Molly Weasley looked terrible. She had a sickly gray pallor and her eyes had no life in them.

"Draco." Molly smiled at him.

He didn't want to go and say hello. He didn't want to go anywhere near her. But she was holding out her hand weakly, waiting for him. With great trepidation, Draco crossed the floor, kissed the air beside his mother-in-law's cheek quickly and embraced her for the tiniest moment.

"I feel so much better now that all my boys are here," Molly uttered while still holding onto Draco's hand.

"We're not staying long, Mum," Charlie muttered.

"Ginny said you need your rest," Ron added.

"Nonsense. What I need are my boys," Molly insisted, giving Draco's hand a small squeeze.

"What is all of this?"

"Oh, Beatrix, these are my sons," Molly responded with a hint of a weary smile.

"I see," the nurse sniffed.

"This is Draco, Ginny's husband, and this is Bill, Charlie, Fred, George, Percy, Ron and Harry," Molly continued, oblivious to the woman's displeasure.

"How long do you intend on staying?"

"Not long," Bill answered. "We're just saying hello, and then letting Mum get some rest."

"Good. Your mother needs all the rest she can get, and it won't do her any good to have so many people around."

"Says the person who's known her for five minutes," Ginny murmured just loud enough for everyone in the room to hear.

Beatrix Abercrombie shot Ginny a deadly look. "Mrs. Malfoy, may I have a word in private?"

Ginny smirked coldly at the woman. "Of course." She smiled pleasantly at Molly. "Mum, I'll be right back."

In the corridor Ginny's expression became deadly to match that of the nurse.

"I would appreciate it if you'd keep your snide remarks to yourself," Beatrix snapped.

"And I would appreciate it if you'd stop presuming that you know what is best for my mother," Ginny responded acerbically.

"I am a health professional!"

"_You_ are a nasty old woman, dressed in a hideous robe, and you know nothing about _my_ mother or how highly she values her _family_." Ginny advanced on the woman. "If you keep making comments about how many visitors my mother has, I will make _you_ sorry you didn't consider dragon keeping as a career."

"For your information, I don't care who you think you are or who you're married to. You don't scare me—"

"Then perhaps I do," Draco snarled as he strode towards the warring women.

The nurse lifted her chin haughtily. "Who are you?"

"Draco — Draco Malfoy." He sneered at the woman, whose eyes widened just a little. "I'm going to tell you this just once, so make certain you understand before I walk away: if you so much as look at my wife with that attitude again I _will_ destroy you."

"I—you—"

"Don't stammer at me," Draco growled in a low threatening voice. "Now get out of my sight, before I decide to destroy you for my own enjoyment."

Beatrix Abercrombie didn't need to be told again, she scampered away as quickly as her legs could carry her and didn't look back.

Draco reached out and gathered his wife in his arms. "Are you all right, Ginny?"

"Yes, I'm fine."

"What was all that about?" Charlie asked from the doorway.

"She just got on my bad side earlier, and I'm not in the mood to play nicely," Ginny supplied flatly.

"Well, do you think if I leave you for five minutes you might be able to play nicely until I return?" Draco asked with an amused grin.

"I'll try my very best."

"I can keep an eye on her for you," Charlie offered. "Although, I'll have to insist that she hands her wand over."

"Not on your life," Ginny retorted.

Draco shook his head. "I'll leave you two to battle out the wand issue. I'm going to find Wilson and see about having that nurse replaced."

"Oh, apparently she's one of his private nurses."

"All the more reason for him to be aware of what she's like," Draco said grimly.

"Mum likes her," Ginny added weakly.

"And what's going to happen when she shows that side of herself to your mother? It's not worth risking, Ginny, because Molly would have her guts for potion ingredients even with her ill-health." Draco kissed her firmly on the forehead. "I'll be back soon."

Ginny watch her husband stride authoritatively down the corridor to the nurses station. He'd never really stood up for her like that before, and while she usually preferred to fight her own battles just knowing he was willing to step in was a comfort, especially when she didn't have the energy to be creative about the way she tortured those who crossed her.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Charlie asked.

"Yes, I'm fine," Ginny assured him. "I'm just a little tired," she continued when he gave her a skeptical look.

"Maybe you should go home and get some rest while we're here," Charlie suggested.

Ginny gave her brother a look that conveyed her opinion of his idea in no uncertain terms.

"It was just a suggestion." Charlie held his hands up in surrender. "Are you coming back in?"

"Yes."

Charlie held the door open for her. "We'll get you a chair then."

It took Charlie several minutes to convince Fred he should relinquish one of the few chairs in the room for his sister, but eventually Ginny was sitting by the side of Molly's bed on the hard chair. Once he'd made sure Fred wasn't going to reclaim his seat, Charlie sought Bill out and filled him in on the nurse situation in whispered tones.

"Is everything all right, dear," Molly asked wearily.

Ginny smiled brightly for her mother's sake. "Yes, Mum, of course it is."

"What did Beatrix need to talk to you about?"

"Nothing important," Ginny replied casually. She hoped Molly wouldn't get too upset when she discovered Draco was having the horrid woman replaced.

"Mum, Anya and I are going to stay at the Burrow until you're released," Charlie mentioned, winking slyly at his sister.

"Oh, I won't be there to cook for you," Molly fussed.

"Anya can cook, Mum." Charlie chuckled. "She manages when we're at home."

"Yes, I know, but—"

"No buts. We'll be fine, and she'll make sure Dad doesn't fade away as well," Charlie assured her.

"What about me?" Ron asked.

Charlie looked at his youngest brother with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "I suppose if you talk to her nicely she might throw you a couple of scraps."

"Don't worry, mate, you can always come to my place for dinner," Harry offered.

Ron's face contorted into an expression of disgust. "I think I'll stick with the scraps thanks."

"Hermione's getting better," Harry said defensively.

"Just let me know when she finally cooks something that doesn't taste like swamp mold," Ron responded.

"At least my wife knows where the kitchen is," Harry teased good-naturedly.

"Pansy will learn," Ron replied smartly.

"Is hell freezing over sometime soon?" Harry jibed.

"Before you two start trading more than smart comments, I think it's an idea if we left and let Mum get some sleep," Bill interrupted.

Murmurs of agreement came from all the men at once. While they were saying their goodbyes to Molly, Charlie slipped around behind Ginny.

"You're coming too," he whispered.

"No, Mum might need—"

"Don't argue with me. You're tired and you need to get some rest." Charlie regarded his sister sternly. "I'll bet you haven't had any lunch either."

"Fine, but I'm coming back later," Ginny grumbled, knowing her second oldest brother wasn't above making a scene if need be to get his own way.

"We'll see about that," Charlie said seriously. "Go and say goodbye to Mum."

Ginny glowered at him, but her effort lacked conviction. He was right: she was too tired to be here and she wasn't doing anyone any good at the moment, least of all herself. She waited until the boys had mostly left the room before moving forward to speak to her mother.

"Mum, I'm going for a little bit, so you can get some rest, but I'll be back later," Ginny promised quietly.

"That all depends on whether or not she has a nap, Mum," Charlie interrupted from behind Ginny. "She's dead tired and she hasn't had lunch yet."

"Ignore him, Mum. I will be back, no matter what he says," Ginny reiterated firmly.

"Don't back me into a corner, little one, or I'll be forced to play dirty," Charlie warned with just a hint of seriousness tainting his good-humor.

Ginny turned her head, so Charlie could see her incredulous expression.

"You don't believe me?" Charlie grinned broadly. "No matter. You will if I'm forced to do what I have to do."

She shook her head at him and turned back to Molly, giving the older witch an affectionate kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you later."

"All right, dear," Molly responded with a small smile.

Charlie followed her out of the hospital room, pausing only briefly to bid his mother goodbye and promise that he would make certain his sister rested before returning to the hospital.

"Just what are you trying to do? Worry Mum even more?" Ginny snapped the moment the door closed behind Charlie and they were in the relative safety of the corridor.

"Nope, but I'm not above doing that if necessary either," Charlie responded calmly. "You're tired by your own admission. You look dreadful and if you don't look after yourself—"

"If you don't mind, I think I can decide for myself whether I'm looking after myself or not."

"Or I can mention it to your husband," Charlie suggested in a low voice.

Ginny laughed. "Go ahead. It's not like you telling him is going to make any difference."

"We'll see," Charlie replied smugly.

"Ginny, that room is a bit posh," Ron said suddenly.

"Posh?" Ginny frowned at the sea of faces in front of her. "It's a hospital room. There's nothing posh about it."

"It's a private room, with a private nurse and apparently Mum's Healer is—"

"The same one I saw when I fainted," Ginny finished.

"What Ron is trying to say is: how much is all this going to cost?" Percy clarified sharply. "Mum and Dad can't afford—"

"Don't worry about the cost," Ginny snapped. "I'll take care of it."

"Ginny, that's not what they were saying," Bill said, sending stern warning looks at his younger brothers.

"Look, I did what I had to do so Mum would get the immediate care she needed, and I'll take care of the bills," Ginny continued.

"You will?" Draco blurted as he approached the group in the corridor. He immediately began to feel uncomfortable as everyone looked at him questioningly. "Of course, we will. Don't worry about a thing, we've got it covered."

"We can split the cost," Bill offered.

"No, it's fine," Draco said weakly. The care Molly Weasley was receiving was going to cost thousands of Galleons, and it truly hadn't occurred to him that his in-laws might not have the means to pay for their own health care.

"I'm sure between all of us we can take care of whatever all this is going to cost," Charlie reiterated Bill's offer.

Draco shook his head. "It's all right. Ginny arranged all of this, and we'll take care of it."

"Did you speak to Healer Wilson?" Ginny asked.

"Yes, and he can't replace the nurse."

"What?" Charlie expressed in disbelief.

"His other nurse is on holidays, so she's the best he's got, but he did offer to have a word to her about the way she spoke to you," Draco informed them.

"He'd want to make that a harsh word," Charlie muttered.

"What happened?" Fred enquired.

Between Draco, Charlie and Ginny they told the rest of the family what had taken place up until now.

"So, you got off on the wrong foot with her to start with and now everything she does is going to be scrutinized?" Bill asked, looking at Ginny.

"It wasn't a good start," Ginny admitted.

"You know, she's probably an excellent nurse."

"I can see why she'd have a problem with all of us being here at once," Percy pointed out. "She can hardly do her job with so many visitors hanging around."

"Yes, but she didn't even want me to go in there," Ginny explained. "She was all right with Dad going in, but dead against anyone else visiting at all."

"It might be good for Mum to have a break from everyone," Charlie suggested.

Ginny shook her head. "No, the first thing she asked for was her 'boys'. It would kill her if she couldn't see everyone."

"Well, we should set up a roster or something then," George suggested.

"There's a good idea," Fred exclaimed, slapping his twin on the back.

"Why don't we take this discussion to the Burrow?" Bill ordered, rather than suggested. "That way we're not blocking a whole corridor, and we can get some lunch."

"What about Dad? He might need something," Ginny said.

"I spoke to him before I left. He's fine, and he'll get something at the tearoom later," Bill told her. "Come on, I'm starving!"

Ginny had no option but to follow her brothers, as Bill and Charlie took up residence on either side of her and guided her out of the ward. She could hear the click of Draco's hard soles bringing up the rear. To keep them happy she would go to the Burrow for a short while, and then return to the hospital.

* * *

Within five minutes of arriving at their childhood home the Weasley boys, Harry and a rather shocked Draco had relegated Ginny to the sitting room, with orders to rest, and had taken over the kitchen. Lunch was the first order of work, and then discussions about how they were going to handle Molly being in hospital.

Ginny listened in horror as the noise level in her mother's kitchen rose to a deafening level and things crashed periodically. It sounded more like they were playing Quidditch in the kitchen than pulling together a simple lunch. She knew Molly would have a fit if she ever got wind that the boys had been in there doing something, and just the thought of the mess they were creating, and would leave for someone else to clean up, made her shudder.

Almost an hour after they arrived, Draco walked into the sitting room looking very much worse for wear. His robes were filthy and he had odd pieces of something in his blond hair.

"You didn't fall asleep," he remarked.

"How could I with all that noise going on? I was beginning to think the twins were conducting experiments in there," Ginny responded.

"Well, lunch is ready."

"It looks like you're wearing a fair bit of it."

Draco looked down at his robes and screwed his nose up in disgust. The preparation of their meal was something he'd never before experienced and something he feared experiencing again. Charlie, sensing Draco's inexperience in the kitchen, had promptly assigned Harry to watch him carefully — apparently, the last thing they needed was someone bleeding in their food or another trip to St. Mungo's with a burn victim. All was going well until Draco, uncharacteristically, knocked over a jug of thick white sauce, then all hell seemed to break loose, and the food preparation was forgotten about for five minutes. After much taunting and food throwing, Bill called for calm, and everyone went back to their tasks without another word, leaving a slightly shaken Draco standing in the middle of the room, covered in Merlin only knew what, with a look of horror on his face.

"Here, I'll fix it," Ginny offered, withdrawing her wand and casting a few carefully aimed Scourgify charms.

"Thank you."

"So is anything edible?"

"I don't think so," Draco admitted.

"Oh well, what doesn't kill us makes us stronger." Ginny giggled. "Come on, I'm sure it's not as bad as you think. The boys can cook when they have to."

"I suppose," Draco agreed flatly, following his wife into the kitchen.

The Weasley wizards and Harry were all sitting at the table waiting for Draco and Ginny to join them. Draco blinked as he looked around. The kitchen was clean; gone was the food that had been thrown around the room after his unfortunate accident.

"Don't look so surprised, mate," George said with a laugh.

"We're quite adept at cleaning charms," Fred advised.

"Had to be really," George mused aloud.

Fred nodded. "Mum might have heard explosions coming from our room—"

"But proving we were doing something was another matter entirely," George finished with a cheeky grin.

"Dig in everyone," Bill bellowed.

The noise as the men and Ginny filled their plates was almost enough to rattle the windows, but once everyone was happy with the contents of their plate conversations gave way to the sounds of cutlery on china.

"When is Anya arriving, Charlie?"

"This afternoon sometime," Charlie answered vaguely. "She had to get the kids packed and ready."

"There are a few things we need to sort out," Bill reminded everyone. "Do we want to wait until all the girls can get here, or are we going to go ahead and make some decisions?"

"I propose we make the decisions," Percy offered pompously. "The women will go along with whatever we say anyway."

Bill choked on a mouthful of bread, and Charlie sprayed the table with soup from his mouth. The other men looked at their foolish brother with open incredulity.

"I dare you to say that when Penelope's in earshot," Ron challenged.

"He'd have to ask her for his balls back first," Charlie spluttered amusedly.

"I'll have you know—" Percy began indignantly.

Fred sent his brother the most understanding look he could muster before cutting him off. "It's all right, Percy, we know—"

"She extracted your spine on your wedding day," George finished with a confirming nod.

Bill cleared his throat loudly to get everyone's attention. He'd been watching the banter between his younger brothers carefully, and he knew just how long to let them go before reining them back in before wands were drawn. "Let's get back to business before he has a tantrum."

"Yeah, better had," Charlie agreed.

"What if we sort through a few of the things, then we can check with the girls when we get the chance?" Bill suggested.

"Good thinking," Harry confirmed.

"Right, first we have to sort out some sort of schedule for hospital visits," Bill announced.

The discussion centered around the appropriate number of visitors at one time, when everyone could likely get there, and whether the grandchildren should be considered.

"Right, we'll ask the girls to visit when we can't and share the kids around, so none of them have to go to the hospital," Charlie concluded.

"Next is Harry's birthday," Bill said.

"I hardly think that's important," Ginny commented.

"Mum thinks it is. You must have been out of the room when she brought it up," Ron explained.

"Whether she's out of hospital or not, I don't want her doing anything," Harry said. "I'd rather not have anything, but when I suggested that she just about had a fit."

Ginny rolled her eyes. She knew as well as anyone that there was no getting out of a traditional Weasley birthday celebration. "All right, I'll get together with the girls, and we'll sort our who's doing what. Where are we going to have it?"

"Here would be best," Fred offered.

"You'll have to work out something for a cake as well, or Mum will be demanding they take her down to the hospital kitchen, so she can cook him one," George added.

"I can take care of the cake," Ginny admitted wearily.

"We can just order one from a bakery," Harry said quietly.

"No, Mum would have a conniption if she found out," Ginny reminded him. "It's all right, I've baked a cake before."

"So, we'll leave that in your capable hands, Ginny," Charlie announced. "Just don't go doing everything yourself."

"I won't. I'll get all the girls together tomorrow or something, and we'll work it out."

"What else is there?" Harry asked.

"We're going to have to keep an eye on Dad," Bill told everyone seriously. "Make sure he eats and sleeps, and everything."

"I'll do that, seeing as we're staying here," Charlie offered. "Anya will be happy to make sure he eats as well."

"If you two want some time together or she just gets busy, send Dad to my place for dinner," Ginny said.

"You're going to be doing enough running around," Draco whispered harshly.

Ginny turned and looked at her husband. "And it's not like I can actually remember the last time I cooked myself."

"Can anyone think of anything else?" Bill looked around the table.

"Nope," Ron announced after a sufficient pause.

"Good, I'm heading back to the hospital then," Ginny announced.

"No you're not!"

She glanced around the table unsure of who had thought it was a good idea to negate her idea. All she did know was that it was more than one of them.

"You're not going anywhere until you've rested for a bit," Charlie said sternly.

"I second that idea," Bill agreed.

"There is nothing—"

"You're resting, love, and that's all there is to it," Draco said gently.

"If you go back now you might scare someone," Ron pointed out.

"You do look like a troll princess, Ginny," Fred added.

"I don't believe you lot."

"You would if you looked in the mirror," George replied.

As her brothers burst into laughter, Ginny rose from her chair, none too gracefully, and stormed from the kitchen. She'd only just reached the hearth when she heard footsteps following her. A pair of familiar arms wrapped around her tense body.

"You're having a rest before you go back to the hospital," Draco whispered gently. "There's not going to be an argument about it, Ginny."

"Draco, I have to get home to our children as well."

"They're being well taken care of."

"I told your mother I wouldn't be long."

"It doesn't matter, because she didn't have any plans for today anyway."

"That is beside the point."

"Perhaps it is, but it doesn't change the fact that you're going to rest _before_ you head back to the hospital, and while you're doing that I'll check on the twins," Draco said in a tone that should have brokered no argument.

Ginny spun around in her husband's arms and leveled a deadly glare at him. "I don't _want_ to rest."

An ill-disguised snigger from the doorway of the kitchen garnered Draco's attention briefly. Charlie was leaning on the doorframe watching his every move and, apparently, finding his efforts most amusing. He flicked his gaze back to his stubborn wife. "Ginny, we're not going to argue about this. Now, you have a choice: you can either go upstairs and rest, or I'll take you home to rest. Either way, you _are_ going to rest _before_ returning to the hospital."

"What about what I—"

"You'll be no good to anyone if you get sick, not to mention the danger you'll be putting our baby in," Draco growled, his patience finally giving out. "Now, where are you going to rest?"

Ginny opened her mouth to retort, but snapped it shut again when she realized that Draco wasn't going to give in on this matter. Rather than answer him, and admit defeat, she tossed her head in the air and stormed up the staircase.

Draco waited until she was out of sight to release a loud sigh of relief and frustration. He leaned on the hearth, hoping that his brother-in-law would wander away and go about his own business without commenting on his ineptness.

"If I were you, I'd follow her up and make sure she's going to rest, because knowing my sister, she's probably shimmying down the drainpipe as we speak," Charlie advised shrewdly.

Draco turned slowly to meet the gaze of the highly amused redhead. His head was telling him to argue the point, but his heart told him firmly that Charlie was probably right, considering the mood Ginny was in at the moment. Without responding, Draco mounted the staircase, taking the stairs two at a time mostly to escape the chuckles that were now coming from below. He approached Ginny's childhood bedroom with trepidation, hoping that this was where she'd come, because he didn't feel like searching the upper levels on the house. A brief pause outside the closed door confirmed someone was inside the room.

"Ginny," Draco whispered as he opened the door.

She turned to face him with blazing eyes. "What?"

"I just wanted to make sure you were all right, love," Draco uttered softly. _And not escaping through the window_, he added to himself.

"No, I'm not all right," Ginny snapped. "I want to be with my mother."

"I know, but you're also very tired, and you need to rest for a bit, then you can go back to the hospital."

"I'm not a child," she hissed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"Yes, you did." Her voice cracked as she tried her best to sound angry with him. The moment she heard the falter her eyes welled with tears.

Draco was across the room and had enveloped her in his arms in seconds. "Ginny, don't cry, love."

"I just—I feel so useless," she howled into his shoulder.

"Shh, it's all right. You're tired, and you're not much good to anyone when you're like this. Once you get a little sleep, you'll be far better equipped to deal with everything," he crooned. "Let's get you into bed."

He was surprised at how compliant she was now that she'd upset herself again. Not wanting to leave her alone until he was certain she was, at the very least, calm, Draco slid himself onto the bed as well and held her, murmuring quite words every so often. It wasn't long before her weeping began to slow and her breathing evened out. She was so exhausted that when she finally succumbed to sleep, she fell directly into a deep slumber.

With care, Draco untangled himself and left the room silently. He hoped she would sleep for at least a couple of hours, if not more. The other men were in the kitchen still discussing what their mother being in hospital meant to their everyday lives.

"Is she asleep?" Bill asked as Draco joined them.

"Yeah, sound asleep."

"Good, she needs it," Charlie commented.

"What's that?" Draco asked, peering at a piece of parchment in front of Bill.

"A schedule," Bill answered. "We figured we'd better get something solid down, so we won't double up at the hospital."

"That's my cue to leave," Percy announced. "Are you coming, Ronald?"

"Soon," Ron answered flatly.

"Very well," Percy answered. "I'll see you all at sometime during the week, I'm sure."

Most of the men muttered some form of response as Percy walked out of the house.

"I don't see why Harry and I get stuck with him," Ron grumbled.

"It's only for this afternoon," Bill answered impatiently.

"You know he won't hang around long," Charlie reminded him.

"Yeah, he'll probably make some excuse to go back to the office, and then you'll be rid of him," Fred added seriously.

"I'll be there a bit later," Bill promised. "And Ginny will be there when she wakes up."

"Maybe," Draco uttered.

"Excuse me?" Charlie asked.

Draco blanched. He hadn't meant to voice his thoughts. "She's exceptionally tired, and I don't want her to get sick."

"We all agree that she needs some sleep, but you can't keep her away from Mum," Bill said firmly.

"I don't intend to. I was merely saying she might not be back at the hospital _today_. She may, and I hope she does, sleep through," Draco stressed. "I certainly won't be waking her to go to the hospital."

"Yeah, of course not," Bill mumbled.

"Ron, we really ought to get going," Harry prompted.

The youngest Weasley brother sighed heavily as he stood up. "Yeah, I suppose we should."

"Make sure Dad has something to eat," Charlie reminded them. "Even if you have to take him to the tearoom yourself and watch him eat."

"We will," Harry promised.

"We can do that to get away from Percy," Ron suggested on their way out the door.

Charlie rolled his eyes at Bill as their youngest brother left with his best friend. It was no secret that most of them found Percy irritating, but Ron and the twins found him particularly tedious and didn't know quite how to deal with him effectively.

Bill grinned and shook his head in return before turning his attention to his only brother-in-law. "Right, Draco, when can you get to the hospital?"

"Me?"

"Yes, you." Bill looked at him pointedly.

"I—well, I have to work," Draco stammered.

"So do we all, except for Charlie, but that's only because it's summer break," Bill explained patiently.

"I'll have to check my diary."

"Well, go on then. You can Floo your secretary from here," Bill encouraged.

"Wouldn't she rather spend time with her own sons? I mean, I'm just her—"

"Son!" the men at the table finished in unison.

"You don't get it do you?" George asked.

Draco frowned. "Get what?"

"Even before your wedding she adopted you," Charlie explained.

"There's no getting out of it," Fred added.

"You're a Weasley as far as Mum is concerned," George continued.

"And if you don't visit her in hospital there will be hell to pay," Bill finished with an evil grin. "So can we put you down for lunchtime visits and a couple of evenings?"

"Yes, just do it and let me know; I'll clear my schedule accordingly," Draco conceded.

"Good." Bill grinned broadly and started to add Draco's name to the visitor's schedule. "You've got lunchtimes through to Friday, tomorrow night and Friday night, and you can go with Ginny on the weekend."

_Five visits on his own?_ The thought of protesting did cross Draco's mind, but he swallowed the feeling and nodded. He didn't usually see his mother-in-law that frequently when she was well; what made anyone think he wanted to go near her when she was ill?

"There's to be no mention about the schedule either, or we'll all feel her wrath," Charlie reminded everyone.

"Not that silly," the twins mumbled.

Draco raised his eyebrows at the comment, but decided to keep his silence on the subject. "I promised Ginny I'd check on the twins."

"Floo powder is above the hearth in the brown pot," Charlie directed.

"Thanks," Draco muttered as he moved towards the fireplace.

After a quick discussion with his mother, Draco wasn't surprised to learn that Lucius had returned to the manor to spend some quality time with the children. She had assured him that all was fine and that they were to take as long as needed with Ginny's family. Next he contacted his secretary to make sure his appointments had been rescheduled appropriately and to ensure the men he'd been meeting with were sufficiently happy before they left Malfoy Holdings. His secretary informed him that Lucius had explained the situation to the men and they were, as far as she could tell, very understanding and happy to meet with him again to finish their discussions.

"Is everything all right?" Charlie asked as Draco sat down at the table again.

"Yes, the children are fine," Draco answered vaguely.

"You Flooed the office as well," Bill commented.

"I was in the middle of an important meeting with clients when Ginny arrived," Draco explained. "I just wanted to make sure the clients were happy before they left the office."

Bill nodded understandingly. "Yeah, it was lucky you got me when you did or I wouldn't have been able to come right away."

Draco frowned and looked at his oldest brother-in-law questioningly. He couldn't imagine any of his wife's brothers refusing to come, least of all Bill.

"I was about to start breaking a particularly nasty curse, and you can't leave halfway through doing that," Bill elaborated.

"No, I don't suppose you can," Draco responded.

"Now that you've mentioned it, we must be getting back to the shop," Fred announced.

"Experiments to conduct and stock to sell," George added.

"Remember to tell the girls to contact me about when they can visit Mum, so I can add them to the time table," Bill reminded them.

"Will do!"

"When are you returning to the hospital?" Draco asked Bill curiously.

"I'll wait for Anya to arrive, and I'll go back with Charlie," Bill answered smugly. "With Dad, Percy, Ron and Harry there now there is no need for me to overcrowd the room."

Draco smiled uncomfortably; a little sorry he'd broached the question. He should have known better than to think Bill wouldn't have scheduled himself for more hours at the hospital than entirely necessary.

When the twins finally left, the three men remaining indulged in some light conversation accompanied by a couple of Butterbeers. As the afternoon wore on Draco relaxed again, forgetting his earlier faux pas with Bill. They discussed the likely cost of Molly's care a couple of times, and each time Draco refused their offers of assistance. He realized it was the least he could do seeing as his wife had, most likely unwittingly, consented to the arrangements for her mother's care and no one else could even come close to affording the treatment Molly was receiving.

All was peaceful until Fleur's head appeared in the kitchen hearth.

"William!"

"Fleur," Bill answered with surprise.

"This is going to be good," Charlie whispered amusedly to Draco as his brother walked to the fireplace.

"Why did you not tell me Molly was in the hospital?" Fleur asked angrily.

"I've been organizing the rest of the family, and I was going to Floo you soon," Bill hurriedly explained.

"You didn't think I was important enough to know right away?"

"No, love, I simply got busy with the family. We're trying to sort out some of timetable for visiting Mum. Now we've just got to add you girls and sort out who's looking after the kids when others are at the hospital."

"I could have done something to help."

"I know and, in hindsight, I should have Flooed you right away. I'm sorry. I really am. It was insensitive."

"We will talk about this more later," Fleur snapped, disappearing from the flames before Bill could respond.

When Bill turned around Charlie and Draco burst into fits of laughter.

"Yeah, it's funny to you two, isn't it?"

"Hilarious," Charlie choked out.

Draco tried to respond, but found himself so out of breath that he was incapable.

Bill slumped miserably into his chair and took a long swig of his drink.

"Look at it this way, mate, you'll be so busy running between work and the hospital that by the time you come face to face with her she'll have calmed down," Charlie said consolingly.

"Fleur doesn't calm down. She stews on it and becomes more furious," Bill responded wearily.

"At least you know why you're in trouble," Draco pointed out with a snigger.

"I didn't really do—"

"WILLIAM!"

Bill cringed, cursed silently, composed himself, and then turned towards the hearth. "Yes, dear?"

"When Anya arrives you are to give the timetable thing to her. _We_ will sort out our own visiting times and who will be caring for the children," Fleur instructed irately.

"Yes, dear," Bill responded.

Something in Bill's tone struck Draco as hilariously funny, and he began to choke on his drink. Unable to draw a full breath, he placed his bottle of Butterbeer on the table with a loud thump and stood up to walk to the sink. He'd only taken two steps when the incensed witch in the emerald flames exploded.

"You are _drinking_? Your _mother_ is in the _hospital_ and you three sit around _drinking_?"

"It's only Butterbeer," Bill said quickly.

"You should be at the _hospital_, not sitting there getting _drunk_!"

"Fleur, we can't get drunk off a couple of Butterbeers," Charlie blurted before his commonsense had a chance to kick in and silence him.

"You!" She looked directly at Charlie. "_You_, should be ashamed..."

As Fleur's anger built, her accent grew thicker, and even Bill had difficulty understanding her when she was this infuriated. However, despite not being able to understand a word she was bellowing at him, Charlie did have the good sense to look thoroughly ashamed. With a final parting curse directed at the three of them, the angry French witch disappeared.

Draco leaned back in his chair with a smirk on his face. There was nothing quite like hearing another man get his ear chewed off by his wife.

"I'd quit looking so smug if I were you," Bill advised solemnly.

"Why?" Draco drawled.

"She'll tell Ginny, and then you'll be in your own little world of grief," Bill told him with a sinister smile.

Draco sat forward, placing his head in his hands. Bill had a point. When Ginny found out they'd been sitting around the kitchen drinking — it wouldn't matter that it was only a couple of Butterbeers — he'd be sent straight to the seventh realm of hell, the one reserved for husbands who have displeased their wives and who are only being kept alive, because their wives found torturing their sorry backsides entertaining.

"Another?" Charlie offered, holding out fresh bottles to the other men.

"Don't mind if I do." Draco accepted a bottle of Butterbeer.

"It's too late to make amends, so we may as well deserve the punishment they're going to hand us," Bill concurred, as he too took a bottle.

He'd always thought married life was going to be mundane, but as the three men clinked their bottles together in a toast to their wives, Draco had to change his way of thinking: married life was most certainly not boring.

* * *

****

**_AUTHOR'S NOTES_**

_Thanks to Rainpuddle13 for her amazing beta skills and entertaining plot discussions._


	10. Uncle Draco

**_Disclaimer_**_: I don't own any of the characters you may recognize from the wonderful world of Harry Potter, they all belong to the revered JK Rowling; I just like to play with them a little._

**CHAPTER TEN **

**UNCLE DRACO **

Draco placed his quill in its stand and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his face tiredly. It had been a hellish week and, if he was to be completely honest, the following week wasn't shaping up well either. It was infinitely unfair, in his opinion, that he was forced to come to the office on a Saturday just to catch up on what he'd missed during the week. He should have been spending this time with his wife and children. Not that Ginny was at home. She was at the hospital, as usual. In fact, she was at the hospital all the time, regardless of what the visiting schedule dictated. By Thursday Draco had seriously considered asking Healer Wilson to arrange a second bed in Molly's private room, so Ginny could just stay there twenty-four hours a day.

He had, of course, dutifully visited his mother-in-law as scheduled, often staying far longer than intended, and always taking her something small to brighten her day, which impressed his wife immeasurably. On Wednesday he'd taken a beautiful arrangement of flowers, which were only outdone by the enormous display Narcissa had sent the Weasley matriarch. Thursday Draco had ordered his secretary to track down some of the finest chocolate in the wizarding world, and Molly had boasted to everyone about how delightful it had tasted. Friday had been a basket of exotic fruit, and today he had a package of some popular reading material for her with a few delicacies to enjoy while she peruses the magazines.

A light knock at his door interrupted his thoughts. "Enter."

Draco's secretary slipped into the office. "Will there be anything else, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Have all my appointments been entered into my diary for next week?"

"Yes, sir, I'll get it for you."

Draco muttered his affirmative acknowledgement as she left the room. His thoughts wandered to what he had left to do for the day: a visit to the hospital and then pick the twins up from wherever they were at the moment. While he didn't really want to visit Molly again, there was the added bonus on knowing Ginny would be at the hospital.

"Here it is, sir."

He took the offered diary from his secretary and opened it to the forthcoming week. It was thankfully light on meetings so far. However, one entry made him curious. "Why is next Saturday blocked out?"

"Mrs. Malfoy instructed me to reserve the entire day and night."

"That's odd." Draco frowned and tried to remember if Ginny had said anything about an engagement the following weekend. "Not to worry. I'll ask her about it when I see her. You can leave. I'll see you Monday."

"Thank you, sir. Have a nice weekend."

Again, Draco grunted his acknowledgement of her comment as she left. He looked around his desk for a few minutes, and then decided that there was little else he could do here today. After collecting his cloak and the gift for his mother-in-law Draco went directly to St. Mungo's.

* * *

When he reached the ward the first thing Draco noticed was Charlie leaning on the wall across from Molly's room.

"Is everything all right?" Draco asked the wizard as he approached.

Charlie's head snapped up, startled. "Yeah, I'm just taking a break for a few minutes. She had a bit of a bad night, so she's a bit irritable."

Draco raised an eyebrow skeptically. If there was one thing he'd learned over the past four days it was that Molly didn't get 'just a bit irritable', she became down right ornery. Thanks to his small offerings, he hadn't experienced her bad mood personally, but he had witnessed her take apart more than one person with her sharp tongue.

"Did you bring her something again?"

"Just some reading material and a few treats."

"You are aware that you're making all of us look bad, aren't you?"

Draco snorted. "If you lot aren't smart enough to come bearing gifts, then more fool you."

"The way she gushes over you—"

"Don't go there," Draco warned seriously. Molly's reaction to his gifts was embarrassing at times, not that it would stop him bringing her a little something each day to cheer her up — it gave them something to talk about if nothing else.

"You love it," Charlie teased.

Draco snarled at his brother-in-law. Of all the Weasley wizards, it was Charlie who kept him on his toes the most. "Are you coming in?"

"Of course, I wouldn't miss Mum telling all and sundry how bloody wonderful you are for the umpteenth time this week."

Draco rolled his eyes derisively. _It really isn't worth reacting_, he told himself. When he opened the door of Molly's room the first person he looked for was his wife. She was leaning over her mother, seemingly trying to fluff the older woman's pillows. "Afternoon, ladies."

"Is it afternoon already?" Ginny squeaked in surprise.

He pulled his timepiece from his breast pocket and glanced at it. "No, not quite, love."

"Thank goodness. I don't know where the time is going these days," Ginny said, kissing his cheek hurriedly on her way to the other side of the bed.

"Hello, Molly. How are you feeling today?" Draco asked as approached Molly's bedside. He gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek and remained still while she hugged him.

"I want to go home," Molly responded petulantly.

"Mum, we've been through this," Ginny interjected impatiently.

"Perhaps this will take your mind off home," Draco said smoothly, placing the gift he brought with him on Molly's lap.

"Oh, you are so sweet," Molly crooned. "Isn't he sweet, Charlie?"

Charlie grinned mischievously. "Sickeningly so."

"Away with you," Molly scolded. "Draco always looks after me."

Draco grinned smugly at Charlie. He knew he was now in a position where he could commit cold-blooded murder, and his loving mother-in-law would proclaim his innocence while she buried the body in the field beyond the Burrow's yard, so he wouldn't get dirt under his nails.

"One wonders what you'll try next," Charlie commented exaggeratedly. "I suppose that depends on what the next chapter suggests."

"Excuse me?"

"You know... In that book you're reading," Charlie prompted. "How to Delude Your Mother-in-law Into Thinking You're a Good Bloke."

"Just because I have the common decency to think of Molly when I'm away from the hospital," Draco retorted haughtily.

"Ah, but I'm actually here a lot more than you," Charlie pointed out with an amused smirk.

"You are—"

"If you two are going to start comparing shoe sizes, could you at least take it out of the room," Ginny snapped.

"Don't blame me," Charlie defended himself. "It's your husband who has to—"

Ginny spun around pinning her older brother with a look that would have turned a mere mortal to stone. "You're just bored, and you think that stirring Draco up is a fun way to pass the time."

Draco sniggered quietly.

"And you." Ginny turned to face Draco, not adjusting her glare at all. "Do you really think it's constructive to react to his stupidity? You're just giving him exactly what he wants. A good laugh!"

"Sorry, love," Draco muttered, swallowing his urge to laugh even more. It wasn't easy when Charlie was standing behind her pulling silly faces.

"Charlie, do me a favor and act your age!" Ginny sniped, without turning around.

As she strode over to the other side of the room the two men came together.

"She's turning into Mum," Charlie whispered.

Draco's eyes shot to the bed and then to his wife. Mild panic began winding its way through his veins. Charlie was right. Ginny was exhibiting more and more of her mother's traits. He wondered if there was anything he could do to curb this behavior before it became a part of her personality forever. "She is not," Draco hissed, despite his own observations.

"Mark my words, before you know it those eyes in the back of her head will be permanent."

"Shut it," Draco growled.

Charlie slapped Draco playfully on the back. "Denial is such a lovely place this time of year, isn't it?"

Rather than encourage his brother-in-law to continue feeding his nightmares, Draco quickly went and sat down beside Molly's bed. The older witch had unpacked all that Draco bought her and was more than ready to start thanking him for each individual item. At least while he was having his ear bent by Molly, Charlie couldn't effectively torment him.

After thirty minutes of answering appropriately each time she complimented him or commented on a certain item, Draco decided he'd head off to spend some time with the twins. He bid Molly and Charlie goodbye, and waited for Ginny to walk him to the corridor.

"You look tired, love. Are you sure you don't want to come home with me?"

"I'm fine," Ginny insisted.

"You still have to bake that cake for Harry," Draco reminded her.

"I know. It won't take long."

"Where is everyone today?"

"The twins have taken Dad to lunch, because he's hardly left the hospital. Bill got called into work. Ron and Harry are both working. Percy and Penelope should be here soon. Anya is at the Burrow with the kids. Fleur, Angelina and Katie are shopping and cooking for tomorrow. Pansy and Hermione are both visiting their own parents, I think."

"Is that everyone?" Draco asked with a chuckle.

"Oh, I don't know." Ginny sighed tiredly.

"You need to come home and rest," he said gently. "Percy and Penelope will be here soon, so leave Charlie with your mother and come home with me."

"I can't—"

"Sure you can," Draco insisted. "Just think about it... You could have a long, luxurious bubble bath and a nice relaxing nap. I'll look after the twins, so you needn't worry about them or we could leave the twins with Millie and spend some _quality_ time together."

Ginny dropped her forehead onto his chest. What he was suggesting sounded exactly what she wanted to do, but she couldn't. "Stop teasing me."

"I'm not. It's all yours, if you come home."

"I really can't. Charlie wouldn't know how to handle Mum."

Draco groaned to himself. She was speaking the truth. Charlie had been hiding in the corridor when he arrived, because Molly was being a bit difficult. He would be lost if she started, and he had to deal with her on his own. "All right, but think about coming home early. You need some sleep."

"I will. If someone else, other than Percy and Penelope, makes it in this afternoon I'll come home."

"Good, because I miss you."

"I miss you too."

Draco kissed her deeply and rested his forehead on hers. "Where might I find our children today?"

"At the Burrow."

"Right, I'll call in and pick them up, and then I'm going straight home."

"Okay, I'll see you later then."

"Yes, but not too late."

"I promise."

Draco kissed her one more time before leaving her in the corridor. He was already making plans for the remainder of the day, knowing full well Ginny wouldn't come home until she was kicked out of the hospital. Perhaps they'd take the brooms out for a while, and the horses hadn't been ridden all week, so they would have to be exercised.

* * *

Utter chaos was the only apt description of the scene that greeted Draco when he arrived at the Burrow. There were, quite literally, children everywhere—very noisy children. If he didn't have to collect the twins, he'd have Disapparated immediately. As it was, he had to swallow his abject horror and find Anya as fast as he could to let her know he was taking his children and then get out of there quickly. Draco made his way towards the house as inconspicuously as he could. The last thing he needed was to be mobbed by Merlin only knew how many children. Just as he was reaching to open the kitchen door it flung open, and a harassed looking Anya burst into the yard bellowing at the top of her lungs, with an unhappy baby tucked under one arm.

"Matthew, Beau and Drake, leave Britany _alone_! Give her back her doll right this _minute_!"

Draco unconsciously took a step back. A myriad of emotions flowed through him in the seconds between the witch appearing and her noticing him. First there was pity for Charlie, some shock, and then raw fear of the woman now looking at him.

"An—"

"Thank God you're here, Draco! Take Pippa. Henri is screaming up a storm inside, so I've got to see to him," Anya blurted as she shoved the tiny baby into Draco's arms and turned to enter the house again. "Oh, she needs her bottom changed, if you don't mind."

Draco blinked a couple of times at the now closed back door. He wasn't quite sure what had just happened, but he was suddenly in possession of a wriggling, screaming infant, and he had no idea what to do with it.

Anya reappeared at the door with a wailing baby over her shoulder. "Don't just stand there, Draco, she'll get a rash if you don't change her."

"I—err—"

"Her bag is the pink one hanging on the cloak hooks and make sure you use lots of powder, she likes her powder," Anya advised as she rushed away again.

"Pink bag," Draco repeated vaguely, entering the house and leaving the immediate racket from the yard behind. The infant in his arms had begun to scream like someone was pinching her, and Draco's head had begun to throb.

"For Merlin's sake, Draco, change her nappy and she'll quiet down," Anya snapped irritably.

"Isn't there anyone else who could—"

"No! It's just you and me, and I have my hands full."

"It's just—I've never—"

Anya rolled her eyes at the stammering blond standing just inside the kitchen. "Well, you're about to learn! Get her bag and come into the sitting room."

He didn't dare disobey the frazzled witch. God only knew what she'd do to him if he refused. Draco glanced at the cloak rack. It held four baby bags, and he could clearly see the one he required, but getting it was going to be a problem; after all he had a tiny baby in his arms.

For several minutes he stood in front of the rack trying to work out which arm he should use to pick up the bag. He tried to lift one arm away, but even before he lost contact with the little one's bottom fear flooded his system.

"Draco, are you coming," Anya called from the front room.

"I can't get the bag," Draco responded.

"What do you mean? It's right there on the rack."

"I know where it is! I can't pick it up."

"Why?"

"I have a baby in my arms," Draco stressed.

"So?"

He jumped, not expecting her to answer from right behind him.

"Move aside," Anya ordered. She moved in front of the cloak rack and adjusted her hold on Henri. "See how I'm cradling him fully with my arm? He's perfectly safe like that."

Draco watched on in mild horror as Anya casually reached out and took the bag from the rack.

"Are you coming?"

If it hadn't been for the fact that his hands were full, he'd have reached out to support the baby she was carrying so carelessly. Draco was convinced she was going to drop him. It was only his concern for Henri that made him follow the witch into the front room.

"Put Pippa on the baby blanket," Anya directed.

Draco knelt carefully and placed Pippa on the fluffy yellow baby blanket a few feet from the hearth.

"Now get everything you need from the bag." Anya laughed at Draco's worried glance towards the baby. "Don't worry, she's not going anywhere."

He dragged the bag towards him, not wanting to move away from the infant just in case. After retrieving a clean nappy and the small container of powder from the bag, Draco looked at Anya expectantly.

"Do you know the charm to clean her bottom?"

Draco's face screwed up in revulsion. "She hasn't—"

"I don't think so, but you never can tell with Pippa. She's a sneaky one."

"Great," Draco muttered inarticulately.

"Anyway, I can do the charm from here." Anya withdrew her wand from between the cushions on the chair. "Now you need to undress her," she instructed slowly.

Draco sighed heavily as he examined the little dress Pippa was wearing. It had the tiniest buttons he'd ever seen down the front, but he couldn't seem to figure out how to get them to release. It wasn't until Anya started laughing that Draco realized he must have been doing something wrong. "What?"

"They're just for decoration," Anya managed to get out. "The ones that open are on the back of the dress."

"How the bloody hell do I—"

"Turn her over," Anya said, her eyes dancing with merriment.

Draco groaned to himself as he went back to concentrating solely on the little one in front of him. Very carefully, Draco picked the baby up and turned her over. "Now, what do I do?"

"Put her on her stomach." Anya sniggered.

"Fine," Draco mumbled to himself. Her incessant giggling was beginning to get on his very last nerve. As he reached for the tiny buttons the witch on the chair let out a whoop of laughter. "What?"

It took several minutes for Anya to bring herself under control despite the fact that Draco was glaring at her and the two infants in the room were screaming. "She's wearing a dress, Draco."

"And?"

"You don't have to take it off to get to her nappy."

"You told me to undress her!"

"I meant take her wet nappy off."

Draco began to mutter to himself, not quite game enough, or foolish enough, to tell his sister-in-law what he thought of her sense of humor to her face. He carefully turned Pippa over again and set about taking off her sodden nappy. The moment the wet cloth fell away from her, the little girl stopped bawling and started gurgling happily.

"I'd be quick if I were you, or she'll piddle all over her pretty dress," Anya warned.

Horror stricken again, Draco wasted no time reaching for the fresh nappy. If he could have reached, he'd have kicked his own backside for not realizing the clean nappy hadn't yet been folded. "How do I?" He held the nappy up for Anya to see.

After five minutes of intensive instruction Draco had a perfectly, well almost perfectly, folded nappy in front of him. His pleased expression didn't last long, for when he turned to put the nappy on Pippa he discovered that she'd wet the blanket and her dress.

"Now you'll have to take her dress off," Anya said.

Someone hated him. That was all there was to it. He must have offended the Gods or someone important somewhere along the line to have this happening to him. "Look, I can't do this, Anya."

"You're doing fine."

"No, no I'm not. What if I take that one—" Draco pointed to baby Henri still screaming in Anya's arms. "—and you take care of this one."

"You'd prefer a screamer?"

"Quite frankly, yes."

"Be my guest! And if you can get him to shut up for two minutes I might even make you a cup of tea."

Draco scrambled to his feet and took the screaming little wizard from his sister-in-law. "This is Bill's one, isn't it?"

"Yes, that's Henri."

"Good, he likes me."

"When he's got a belly ache he doesn't tend to like anyone."

"Nonsense! Henri and I get along famously."

"If you say so," Anya mumbled as she turned her attention to Pippa.

"Hello, Henri," Draco started. "Come on, little mate, let's stop all this noise now."

"You might want to try to get his wind up," Anya advised, without taking her eyes off Pippa.

"Yeah," Draco answered absently. He'd seen the women do this and it didn't look all that hard.

After a few moments of awkward movement, Draco had successfully deposited his nephew on his shoulder, and while conducting a very one-sided conversation with the distressed infant he patted his back lightly.

"Just a little harder," Anya said as she sat on the couch next to Draco with a now fully dressed and quite happy Pippa.

"I don't want to hurt him."

"You won't, I promise, but doing it like that is useless. Henri likes to hold onto his wind, so you have to get a little forceful with him."

"Fine," Draco muttered under his breath. He began patting the baby's back vigorously and was surprised when Henri's wailing slowed.

"You've got a real talent for this," Anya commented.

"Hardly," Draco murmured.

"You're going to—" Anya stopped dead as screams from outside filled the room. "For goodness sakes, what are they doing now?"

Before Draco could even move, Anya had left the room. He wished he could get out of a chair with that much ease when he had a baby on his shoulder. As quickly as he could, without endangering Henri's well being, Draco rose and followed the noise to the yard.

Anya was giving the older children a good dressing down. It sounded terrifying to Draco, but when he looked at the little faces surrounding her it seemed she hardly had their attention, let alone their respect.

"That lot are going to drive me around the bend," Anya groaned as the children dispersed and resumed exactly what they'd been doing before she appeared.

"Well, I'm willing to take two of them off your hands," Draco offered. "That should upset the dynamics a bit."

Anya snorted. "It would be better if you took all of them."

Draco's opened his eyes wide in horror.

"You know, that's not a bad idea," Anya continued, her mood beginning to brighten. "You could take the older ones to your place, and I'll look after the babies here."

"I don't think that's a good—"

"Of course it is! Look, all you need to do is watch them when they're playing and make certain they don't spill blood _everywhere_ if they decided to kill themselves."

"I—you—"

"Look, Draco, I know it's weak of me to not be able to handle this, and Molly would be horrified, but the kids are going feral this afternoon and I can't watch them constantly with eight babies under the age of two in the house as well," Anya explained desperately.

"Surely if I take Drake and Angel the dynamic will change," Draco responded weakly.

"Draco, please! I am begging you now. I can't handle this and I know that's failure on some level, but I just can't do it."

"I—" Draco groaned mentally. He could feel himself starting to weaken and he couldn't allow that to happen. He felt sorry for Anya, really he did, but he was inexperienced in the childcare department and he certainly wasn't up to looking after a whole horde of Weasleys. "I don't think I'm the right person to be entrusted with so many children."

"Sure you are! You're a brilliant dad. It's not like I'm asking you to take the babies, just the older ones, and they're all toilet trained," Anya said brightly. She conveniently left out the fact that Declan and Colin still had the occasional accident, because they were often too busy playing to be bothered going to the bathroom and that a few of the others weren't quite there yet.

Draco's eyes popped open in horror at the thought of being left with so many babies. "I couldn't take care of the babies," he blurted before he could stop himself.

"Of course not, just the older ones." Anya patted his arm and beamed brightly at him. "Kids! Come in here."

Draco frowned at the witch next to him, wondering just what she was doing now.

"I want everyone to get their bags and whatever else they brought with them today," Anya instructed.

"Why?" Drake asked, his expression matching his father's confused frown.

"Because everyone is going to your house," Anya announced happily.

"_Everyone_," Draco choked out. "Umm—NO! No, I don't think so."

"You'll be fine, Draco," Anya assured him.

"I can't handle this many," Draco growled. "No way."

"I will be left with the five babies you know."

"And I'll have—" He tried to do a head count, but it was impossible with so many little bodies moving about. "Too many!"

"Nonsense."

"Anya, I hardly know what I'm doing with my own kids, let alone God knows how many others that don't belong to me," Draco hissed. Pure desperation made him admit to this near failing.

The witch regarded the terror stricken wizard in front of her. There was no denying Draco's genuine panic, it was almost palpable, but she simply couldn't continue like this. After all, she was only one person. "I'm afraid one of them will get hurt, because I can't supervise their play and look after the babies at the same time."

"I understand that, but—"

"All right, here's what we'll do then: I'll keep all those aged two and under, and you take all the older ones. You'll only have to watch them while they play, so there's nothing that could possibly go wrong."

Draco sighed heavily. He wished he didn't understand or care about her plight, but the truth was he wouldn't be able to live with himself if anything happened to the any of the children. "All right, but if I need you—"

"Just Floo me and I'll tell you what to do."

"And not a word of—of this to anyone."

"Consider my lips sealed." Anya smiled warmly at him. "Right, listen up everyone. Drake, Angel, Beau, Courtney, Matthew, Colin, Declan, and Britany, get your things. You lot are going with Uncle Draco. The rest of you are staying with me."

"I thought I wasn't taking the little ones," Draco said.

"You're not. They're all three or over."

"Merlin help me," Draco groaned.

"You'll be fine." Anya patted his back as she walked away to help the children find their belongings.

"Umm—Anya, just how am I supposed to transport so many children at once?"

"Floo Network! They're all quite accustomed to traveling that way."

"I'm not," Draco grumbled.

By the time Draco wandered inside, the eight children he was taking with him were standing in front of the hearth, with their belongings, ready to leave. The ache in his head instantly increased tenfold. How he was going to get through the rest of the afternoon was beyond him. All he could do was hope that nothing went wrong.

"You'll need to go through first, and then get ready to catch them as they arrive," Anya suggested. "Some of them haven't quite mastered stopping or remaining on their feet."

"Fine."

"Is it just 'Malfoy Manor' that they need to chant?" she asked, placing Pippa on the floor next to a selection of brightly colored toys.

Draco passed Henri to Anya and stepped into the oversized hearth. "Yes."

"I'll give you a couple of minutes, and then I'll start sending them through. When I've sent the last through I'll Floo you just to make sure they all made it."

As the heatless green flames engulfed him, Draco wondered if it was wrong to hope that one or maybe six of them got lost along the way. By the time he tumbled out of the hearth in one of the front parlors at the manor, he'd decided that it was probably better that they all arrived safely, otherwise they'd be searching every grate between the manor and the Burrow looking for them, before their respective parents could discover their carelessness.

Moments later the hearth came alive and Drake stumbled into Draco's arms. Draco had barely enough time to instruct his son to stand well clear and not touch the furniture when Angel arrived. The first thing the little witch did was let out a howl of disgust.

"My dress! I'm dirty!"

"It's all right, princess," Draco responded quickly, kneeling before her and extracting his wand quickly. "_Scourgify_."

Before he had the chance to sheath his wand, a solid bump in his back sent him flying forward. Draco landed face first on the rug with a loud grunt. He had just lifted himself to his knees when another shove, in his backside this time, sent him sprawling on the floor again. Not wanting to risk permanent damage to his now aching nose, Draco scrambled forward as quickly as he could and then lifted himself off the ground. Beau and Matthew stood before him, covered in soot, looking very pleased with themselves. This afternoon was going to be hell on earth, of that he had no doubt.

Over the next few minutes Courtney, Colin, Declan and Britany arrived at the manor, and then Anya's head appeared in the hearth. After confirming that he had all the children, she wished him luck with an insidious grin and disappeared.

Draco regarded his charges gravely. He had to maintain control or this lot would walk all over him. "Everyone hold still while I clean you up." A few flourishes of his wand over each child later, Draco looked at his heir. "Drake, lead everyone to the playroom."

The children left the parlor in a group, chattering loudly amongst themselves. Draco ran his hands through his hair and questioned his sanity for perhaps the hundredth time in fifteen minutes. He was more than a little tempted to go straight to his study and start drowning his sorrows in a rather large bottle of Old Odgen's best. Fear of what would happen to him if any of the children came to grief while under his care got his feet moving towards the playroom. As he walked, none to eagerly, towards the playroom, it occurred to him that he had no idea how long this torture was going to last; Anya had given him no indication of when the parents of the extra children he had been lumbered with were due to pick them up.

"Ahem."

Draco was torn from his personal torturous thoughts as he head snapped up. "Father."

"I presume you know these two."

Much to Draco's horror two of his nephews scuttled out from behind his father and hid behind his legs. "Err—Yes."

Lucius raised a questioning eyebrow.

"They're Weasleys," Draco supplied.

"They're a bit young to be here to play with the twins," Lucius observed.

"They are a bit."

"Then why?"

"Anya had been left with all the children and she wasn't coping, so I've got some of them until their parents are finished whatever it is they're doing."

"How many?"

"I lost count," Draco admitted with a grimace.

"So they're turning you into some sort of nanny?"

"No, Father, I was simply asked to look after some of the children to allow Anya to take better care of the infants."

"And you agreed?"

"Begrudgingly," Draco mumbled. "She was beside herself, so I didn't really have a choice."

Lucius' nostrils flared. It was a sure sign that he didn't like what he was hearing. "Would you have missed these two had I not found them wandering through one of the formal parlors?"

"Most likely, not right away," Draco responded honestly. The first thing he had to do was a head count and hope that they were all there when he did it. "Now, I should check to see if the rest made it to the playroom without incident."

"I sincerely hope they did," Lucius ground out, none too happy with having his home invaded by Weasley children.

Draco nodded and smiled tightly at his father. "Come on, you two."

As he strode off down the corridor, the two little boys hurried after him, each attaching their little hands to one of his. He was startled at first, but then figured if he had hold of them they couldn't wander away.

It wasn't until he turned into the corridor that the playroom ran off that Draco realized it probably wasn't terribly wise to allow that many children to be in one room at the same time unsupervised. The noise emanating from the room made Draco's headache impossibly painful within seconds. When he stepped through the door, none of the children appeared to notice or care, for that matter, that there was now an adult present. The two little boys attached to his hands quickly disentangled themselves and ran to join the others in their rowdy play. There wasn't a child in the room who wasn't yelling, screaming or squealing. Draco knew he had to do something quickly or there'd be tears for sure, and he feared they'd be falling from his eyes, not theirs.

"QUIET!"

He may as well have bellowed at a stone wall for all the good it had done. The children were either oblivious to his presence or deliberately ignoring him. Ideas flowed freely through his head, but all were dismissed instantly as being useless. Draco had lost control the moment they arrived and he had no idea how to regain it again.

Conscious that he had to do something, Draco ventured into the fray. He managed to grab Beau's arm and hold him tight. Next he secured Drake's attention in the same manner. "Stand over there against the wall and don't move."

As he let go of the boys, something told him he was making a critical mistake in judgment, but for the life of him Draco couldn't identify what that might be. It was mere seconds before his question was answered. The little boys took only two steps in the direction they were told to take before a taunt from Matthew sent them back into the group with amazing speed. Draco didn't know which way to turn first. He tried to follow them, but was surrounded by the other children the moment he got close enough. Within seconds they had somehow made him sink to the floor and were jumping all over him. If he could have drawn a full breath, Draco would have pleaded for mercy, but as it was he was unable to get enough oxygen to fill his lungs to breathe, let alone speak. The noise in the room rose to an unparalleled level.

All of a sudden there was an earsplitting explosion and everyone froze.

"Drake, where is your father?"

"Under," Drake answered in a small voice.

Draco could feel the little bodies moving away from him and suddenly he could breathe again. After a few cleansing breaths, he realized Lucius was standing over him with a disgusted look on his face.

"What is going on in here? I could hear the noise clearly from my study."

"The children were just... playing," Draco answered weakly, trying to gain his feet. "They're a little overexcited to be here."

Lucius regarded his disheveled son with contempt. "You are supposed to maintain control."

"I was trying," Draco hissed.

"Not hard enough," Lucius snapped.

"Oh my, what is going on?"

Draco groaned quietly. The last thing he needed was his mother to witness how inept he was at caring for children. "Mother, we have guests for the afternoon."

"Everyone has come to play, Grandmother," Drake informed the shocked blonde witch enthusiastically.

"Play? Is that what you call it?" Lucius drawled derisively.

Drake nodded uncertainly at his grandfather and averted his gaze immediately.

A little sob in the lull drew everyone's attention to the corner of the room. Draco was already on his way to the upset child before he even thought about why he was going to him.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked, kneeling in front of the small boy.

"I—I bumped my—my elbow."

"Oh—" Whatever Draco was going to say was cut short by a loud howl from the child as his small head landed on Draco's shoulder. "It's all right, mate. We'll have a look at it and see if we can't fix you right up," he continued awkwardly.

A helpless glance at his mother was all it took to spur Narcissa into action.

"Bring him over here." Narcissa indicated to the small sofa near the fireplace.

Draco picked the little wizard up and followed his mother's instructions without question.

"What is his name?" Narcissa asked quietly.

He knew he'd been told at some point, but his mind was a complete blank at the moment. For the life of him he couldn't remember. Draco shrugged at his mother helplessly.

Narcissa shook her head at him and muttered disgustedly, before turning her attention to the upset little boy on the sofa. "Come now, darling," she soothed gently. "What's your name?"

"Colin," the little boy uttered.

"I'm Mrs. Malfoy." Narcissa smiled warmly at him. "What exactly did you do to your elbow?"

"I bumped it."

"Can I see?"

Colin sniffed loudly and nodded to show his assent.

With great care, Narcissa turned the little boy's arm over. There was a large red welt on his elbow and the child whimpered loudly when she tried to straighten the joint. "I think we'll get Millie to have a look at this."

"Who's Millie?" Colin asked curiously.

"She's a house elf and she has very powerful house elf magic," Narcissa informed him impressively.

"Oh."

"Millie!"

"Old Mistress did summon—" The aging house elf trailed off as she noticed just how many children were in the playroom.

"We seem to have had a minor accident here. Colin has bumped his elbow," Narcissa stated. "Colin, this is Millie and she's going to take care of your arm."

The little redheaded wizard looked at the old servant with wide eyes. He nodded hesitantly and almost withdrew his arm when Millie reached for him with her gnarled hands.

"It's all right, darling," Narcissa cooed. "Drake, perhaps you could afford your cousin some comfort?"

Drake frowned at his grandmother in confusion, but moved to her side just the same.

Draco leaned down and whispered in his son's ear quickly, "Just tell him it's all right and that Millie knows what she's doing."

The small blond wizard nodded once and smiled encouragingly at his younger cousin. "It's okay, Colin, Millie fixes me up all the time and it never hurts when she does it."

"Really?"

"Yep, whenever I fall off my broom Millie puts cold charms on my sore bits." Drake perched himself on the sofa next to Colin. "Are you going to use cold charms, Millie?"

"Little Master needs to not talk to Millie while Millie is seeing the problem," the servant muttered.

"Cold charms are really good. They tickle a bit, and then your whole arm goes really cold," Drake continued. "And it doesn't hurt anymore! It just feels really cold."

"Is there anything broken?" Narcissa whispered.

Millie shook her head, making her large ears flap from side to side. "Just a bump, Old Mistress. Millie will use the cold charm to make little boy feel better."

Colin's eyes almost popped out of his head when a soft white glow enveloped his arm. He twitched a couple of times, as if he wanted to pull away, but didn't quite have the courage.

"Little boy should feel better soon," Millie concluded.

"In just a few minutes your pain will have disappeared," Narcissa assured Colin. "Try moving your arm around slowly."

Colin followed the older witch's instructions, though he did so with no enthusiasm.

"Does it feel better?"

"A bit."

"Wonderful!" Narcissa exclaimed joyously. "Now, Millie, you will stay with Draco to assist him with caring for the extra children, so we don't have anymore little mishaps."

Millie's eyes flicked to Draco and then back to Narcissa. "As you wish, Old Mistress."

"Well, we'll leave you to it, Draco," Narcissa said as she rose gracefully.

"Thank you, Mother."

"Do try to maintain control," Lucius sniped.

Draco glowered at his father. It wasn't as if Lucius could have done a better job of looking after so many children. In fact, he probably would have run away at the first mention of being in charge of this many.

The moment his parents exited the playroom the noise level began to rise. He knew he had to do something to keep them all busy or there were going to be more bumped body parts than Millie could fix at once.

"Right, everyone take a seat," Draco ordered.

"Where?" Matthew inquired.

"Anywhere," Draco snapped.

Matthew and Beau shrugged at each other, and then each picked up a chair from the small table on the other side of the room. It wasn't until they were on their way out the door that Draco caught on to what they were up to.

"Where are you two going?"

"You said to take a chair anywhere," Beau informed his uncle with a wicked twinkle in his eye.

"We were just doing as you said," Matthew confirmed.

Draco took a deep breath and reminded himself that, despite how good it would make him feel, hexing the boys would most likely be frowned upon by their fathers. "Take the chairs back in and sit down near the sofa."

The little boys set off towards the sofa muttering amusedly between themselves about uncles who just didn't know what they wanted.

A small snarl escaped Draco's throat. He would have to watch those two closely or they were going to make his life hell. When it looked as though all the children were settled Draco made his way over to them.

"Right, what do you want to do this afternoon?"

"Go flying!" Drake answered quickly with murmurs of approval from Beau and Matthew.

"Mate, I can't watch all of you in the air, so we can't do that today."

"We could have a tea party," Angel suggested.

Disgusted grumbles came from the boys.

"Settle down, you lot," Draco said. "I won't make you sit around drinking 'tea' all afternoon, but if you keep going, I might be tempted to agree with Angel and make you _dress_ for the occasion, just for extra punishment."

The threat, as hollow as it was, seemed to be enough to convince the boys that arguing wouldn't be good for their dignity. Each of them shut their mouths and looked expectantly at Draco.

"It looks like we're not going to come to any sort of agreement on an activity for everyone to enjoy, so what would you usually do at the Burrow?"

Drake shrugged. "Play outside."

"Play what?" Draco pressed.

"Aurors, Quidditch, Duels—" Drake looked to his two oldest cousins for more input.

"Loads of things," Beau confirmed.

"All outside?" Draco asked.

"Yep."

"If you boys are happy to do that then off you go outside, but remember the area is warded, so don't try to escape."

Within seconds Draco was left with three little girls all looking at him in anticipation.

"Are you happy to have a tea party?"

Angel nodded excitedly and began ordering Millie to fetch everything she required to host a tea party.

"Millie, you stay with the girls, and I'll watch the boys," Draco called over his daughter's insistent voice.

"As Master wishes."

Draco escaped the playroom quickly. He wouldn't have thought that just three little girls could make quite so much noise and in such a high pitch that his ears felt ready to burst. Outside, he found the boys running around making just as much noise, but in a tone far better suited to the human ear. They each had a stick in their hands and were brandishing them like wands. He took a seat on the patio and watched them playing. From what he could ascertain, Beau, Matthew and Drake were Aurors, and the other two were Dark Wizards.

All of a sudden the three older boys surrounded the two younger ones, snatching their 'wands' away from them.

"Give up or we'll hex you clear into next week," Beau demanded.

"Never!" one of the little boys shouted as he tried to make good his escape between Beau and Matthew.

"I'll get him," Drake bellowed, pointing his 'wand' at the small boy and following through with some fictitious hex that Draco couldn't quite make out from his position.

Much to everyone's surprise the little boy flew back several feet and landed on his backside.

Draco was on his feet and half way across the grass before he even realized he'd stood up. He paused in his travels, torn between checking on his nephew and congratulating his son on a fine display of natural magic. A howl of pain and indignation made his mind up instantly and he flew to Drake's side, mostly to hold him back. Declan, the recipient of the unintentional magic, had recovered enough from his shock to jump up and kick Drake in the shin as retribution. Drake was in the process of launching himself at the smaller boy just as Draco grabbed the back of his shirt.

"Drake!"

"He kicked me!"

"I know, I know, and I'll deal with him," Draco assured him. "How's your leg?"

"Sore."

"Go and see Millie. Tell her what happened."

"Why?"

"You need some treatment."

"No I don't. It's only a bump." Drake lifted his chin and looked directly at Colin. "I'm not a baby, like some people."

"Fine, don't go then, but don't complain later." Draco ran a hand through his hair. At any other time, Drake would have been a screaming mess on the ground insisting that his leg had been severed. "What's this one's name?"

"Declan," Drake snarled.

"Declan, go up to the patio and wait for me there," Draco instructed firmly. "We're going to have a little chat."

He waited until the boy was well clear of the group before turning back to Drake. "That was a brilliant display of magic, son."

Drake shrugged nonchalantly. "Happens all the time."

"When?"

"All the time," Drake answered evasively.

"All right, we'll have a chat later." Draco patted his son's back before standing up and striding to the patio. He got the distinct impression that Drake didn't want to talk about his talent in front of his cousins.

Declan was waiting for Draco with a decidedly unhappy expression on his face. The moment he stepped foot on the patio the little wizard's chin began to tremble.

_Bloody brilliant,_ Draco thought irritably. "Don't start crying," he snapped, more harshly than he intended.

The floodgates opened and the little boy started howling.

Draco stood there staring at the boy with undisguised horror. He didn't know what to do now. There was no way he could reprimand the boy for kicking when he was bawling like he was, nor could he think of any way to calm him down without giving him the false impression that he was happy with his behavior. "Just go away and don't do it again," Draco muttered, waving his hand towards the yard.

As Declan wandered miserably back to the group of boys, Draco sank into a chair. He was certain he'd just made a mistake, but there was little he could do about it when he had no idea what the protocol was. All he could do now was keep a close eye on them and hope there'd be no more dramas.

It proved to be a futile effort, because as soon as Declan drew level with the boys an almighty brawl broke out. By the time Draco reached them, the three older boys had Declan and Colin pinned to the ground and were spouting threats they weren't old enough to carry out.

"Break it up!" Draco yelled, grabbing Drake and Beau by the back of their shirts and trying to shake them loose of their victims. "Matthew! Get off them NOW!"

Matthew complied begrudgingly. He stood just a little apart from the twin three-year-olds, snarling at them if they dared to look at him or whimper too loudly.

Draco placed the other two boys on their feet, away from the rest of the boys and gave Matthew a shove in the shoulder to move him away from the younger boys. "Right, you lot are not playing together anymore. You three, go and find something to do." Draco pointed to the other side of the warded yard. "You two, can go inside. There are plenty of toys in the playroom to keep you occupied and safe."

"They're not touching _my_ Quidditch stadium!" Drake snarled.

"Don't touch the Quidditch stadium," Draco instructed. It wasn't worth the grief he'd get from Drake to allow the little ones to play with one of his most prized possessions.

With the boys all following his orders, Draco suddenly found himself standing alone. He'd wait a while to make sure the three older boys were playing nicely and then he'd check on the younger boys. How on earth Anya survived for as long as she did with the babies as well was quite beyond him. He wandered slowly back to the patio, feeling far wearier than he should have at this time of the day.

Drake, Beau and Matthew were playing together within minutes, and Draco hoped it would remain that way. The last thing he needed was for them to start ganging up on one another. If they did, he had no idea what he was going to do with them.

When he was certain they weren't going to cause each other immediate death, Draco wandered inside to check on the younger boys and the little girls.

The twin boys had all but emptied every toy in the room onto the floor, much to Millie's disgust, and were wading their way through the piles playing with toys that caught their eye for a moment or two before moving on. Angel had the other two little witches seated at her tea table and was conducting the tea party with all the pomp and ceremony that Narcissa would host a similar event.

"Pastry?" Angel offered a plate of small pastries to her guests politely. "They're made in France you know."

Draco bit the inside of his mouth to keep from laughing aloud at how like his mother his daughter sounded. Something told him that the two little Weasley witches couldn't care less where the pastries were made and, judging by the speed with which they presented themselves, the two little wizards in the room didn't care either. They'd, apparently, heard the offer of food and decided they deserved some pastries as well.

"You can't have any," Angel scolded them haughtily. "You're not at the tea party!"

Draco watched, not entirely certain if he was horrified or amused, as the little boys exchanged cheeky looks and promptly pulled up chairs to the table. One of them picked up the little china plate in front of one of the girls and held it out to Angel.

"NO!" Angel shrieked. "Go away!"

"No," the boys answered in unison.

"We want to have a tea party too," Declan continued.

Three little witch heads came together instantly and a short whispered conversation ensued. Draco shuddered to think what those three were coming up with.

Angel sniffed affectedly. "Very well, you can stay, but you must do everything properly."

The twins grinned at each other happily.

"The first thing you have to do is sit properly," Angel instructed. "You've got to keep your back straight."

Draco had to move away from the door before he gave into the urge to laugh. Whatever the boys thought they had gained was going to be short-lived by the time the girls got through with them. He consoled himself in the knowledge that neither boy would leave the table without first learning how to hold a teacup properly.

Outside the older boys appeared to be still playing together peaceably, and Draco allowed himself to relax for the first time since arriving home. If things kept going this way, he'd get through the rest of the afternoon without any problems or bloodshed.

By the time the sun began to set, there had only been a few minor incidents that required Draco's intervention. The worst of which was Colin pouring his cup of 'tea' over Angel's head after she called him a heathen for the way he was slurping the beverage. Her screams were still ringing in Draco's ears hours later.

When the complaints about rumbling stomachs reached critical point, Draco led the children into the dining room and told them to sit quietly while the house elves served their meal. He may as well have spoken to the bust of his great-great-grandfather in the corner for all the good it did. The taunts started right away and lasted throughout the meal, despite his best efforts to stem the flow.

Just as the children were finishing up their dessert, Percy stalked into the dining room, obviously not happy with someone.

"Percy," Draco intoned politely.

"It would have been polite to inform me that you were taking _my_ daughter away from the Burrow," Percy snapped.

"Well, it would have been more considerate to not dump her on Anya in the first place," Draco growled. "She had all the children. Did you know that?"

"Mum always watches Britany on Saturdays."

"Your mother, if you hadn't noticed, is in hospital and subsequently is not available to baby sit." Draco advanced on his brother-in-law with determination.

"I did visit her today."

"As did I," Draco countered. "Tell me, how long did you stay this time? Five minutes?"

"I—you—"

"You know, the Ministry won't fall apart if you don't go there _every_ single day."

"You have no idea what responsibilities I carry," Percy answered pompously. "Britany, come along. It is time we were going home."

Rather than follow through on the urge to snap his brother-in-law's neck with his bare hands, Draco turned to the little girl, who had scampered to her father's side. "Goodbye, Britany. I hope you had fun today."

"Thank you for having me, Uncle Draco," Britany responded politely as if it was a well-practiced line.

"We'll see you tomorrow," Draco promised with a wink. He might not feel exactly warm towards the child, but he knew his conduct was getting right up her father's upturned nose. "I'll get a servant to show you out, Percy."

Percy nodded his understanding.

"Millie, show our guests out, and then return immediately."

"As Master wishes." The elderly house elf tugged on Percy's hand to get him moving towards the door.

Draco didn't watch them leave, instead he turned back to the table and joined in the conversation his son was having with Beau and Matthew.

"You don't like Uncle Percy, do you, Uncle Draco?" Matthew asked seriously.

"I wouldn't say—"

"My dad says he's a git," Beau told everyone.

"My dad says he's a—" Matthew paused and looked around the table with big eyes.

"Are you allowed to say words like that?" Draco asked with a smirk. He could well imagine what Charlie's description of his younger brother might be.

Matthew shook his head and looked down at his plate.

"I think we can guess what your dad thinks of him," Draco assured him. "Why don't we—" Draco trailed off as he thought about what to do with the children next. He knew his kids usually had baths around this time and began preparing for bed, if they hadn't already.

"We could go and play again," Drake suggested hopefully.

"Yeah, go back to the playroom for now," Draco responded distractedly.

Within seconds Draco was the only one left in the dining room, save for the servants clearing away the mess created by the children. He knew he had to get the twins ready for bed, but he couldn't very well insist they bathed and not the rest of the children—it simply wouldn't be fair. Then again, bathing that many children scared the living daylights out of him. There was no way on magical earth that he could keep on eye on all of them at once, even with help from Millie.

"Master does want Millie to fill the baths?"

Draco blinked at the house elf standing in front of him and rubbed his hand tiredly over his face. "No, they'll have to bathe later... After their cousins go home."

"Mistress likes Miss Angel and Little Master Drake to bathe right after dinner," Millie insisted.

"Well, I can't bloody well watch _all_ of them at the same time," Draco snapped.

"Master has help."

Draco snarled and stalked out of the dining room. Their evening routine had been so disturbed this week that he wondered if it was beyond restoration. Just as he reached the playroom door Draco stopped dead. A thought had occurred to him: Millie could watch the others while he sorted the twins out for bed.

"Millie!"

"Millie is right here, Master," the servant answered from directly behind Draco.

He ignored the fact that she'd obviously followed him. "You watch the other children and I'll take care of Drake and Angel."

"Yes, Master."

Pleased with himself now that he'd thought of a solution to his problem, Draco entered the playroom. The children were, once again, making enough noise to wake his ancestors. "Drake! Angel!"

At the sound of his voice everyone stopped.

"Upstairs for a bath," Draco instructed. His eyes almost left his head when all the children started towards the door. "No! No, just Drake and Angel."

"But I want to have a bath with Courtney," Angel whined.

"Courtney doesn't have her pajamas here," Draco countered, congratulating himself on thinking so quickly.

"Yes, I do, Uncle Draco." The little girl nodded emphatically at him. "They're in my bag."

"Oh, well... I suppose you two can have a bath together," Draco agreed reluctantly. One more wasn't going to make a difference anyway.

"What about Beau and Matthew? We want to have a bath together too," Drake said.

"Mate, I can't watch all of you if you're in three different places. What am I supposed to do with Colin and Declan?"

Drake shrugged, not really caring what happened with his two younger cousins.

"Little boys can have bath first and Millie can watch them after," Millie suggested quietly.

Draco frowned with irritation. "What?"

"Master can bath children, but only a few at a time. Take littlest boys first, then girls, then bigger boys," Millie elaborated. "Millie will watch children not in bath."

He could feel all the children's eyes on him while he considered what Millie had just suggested. To say no, now that she had voiced a solution, would more than likely invite a rebellion that he had little chance of surviving. "All right, we'll do that. Colin and Declan, get your bags and come upstairs with me, and the rest of you play quietly... I don't want complaints from the portraits on the third floor about the noise."

With a three-year-old attached to each hand, Draco left the playroom just as the noise level had reached its previous crescendo. It was a waste of breath telling them to keep it down at the moment. He could only hope that after their baths they would settle down for the night or their parents might think to pick them up.

It didn't take Draco long to run a bath in Drake's bathroom and assist the little boys out of their play clothes. While they were splashing about in the bubbles Draco examined the contents of their bags and discovered that they hadn't brought any sleepwear with them at all. He considered putting them back in their dirty clothes, but upon closer inspection Draco discovered that what they'd been wearing could quite possibly walk on its own. A quick search of Drake's dressing room delivered two pairs of pajamas to Draco's hands. Although the clothes would be too big there was little he could do about it at this hour.

After ensuring both little boys were clean, Draco helped them dry off and don their older cousin's pajamas. Once he'd left them in Millie's care, Draco escorted the two excited little girls upstairs.

Angel headed straight for her rooms, but Draco called her back. "Angel, you can use Drake's bathroom tonight."

"I don't want to!"

"The bath is already drawn," Draco explained patiently.

With a huff and a look that told him she was less than pleased, Angel stomped through her brother's suite and into his bathroom. Draco rolled his eyes to the heavens and begged the deities to go easy on him.

"Ewww! I'm not getting in there!"

"What's wrong?" Draco asked as he entered the bathroom to find both little witches staring at the large bathtub in disgust.

"The water is yucky," Angel responded petulantly.

Draco looked into the tub and had to agree. Who'd have thought a pair of little boys could make the water that horrid. "All right, we'll change the water."

"I want to use my bath."

"Fine, use your bath," Draco answered wearily. "I'll be there in a minute."

As the girls left the room, Draco waved his wand in the direction of the bathtub, emptying the dirty water. A very distinct ring around the marble where the water had been sitting was left behind. He debated summoning Millie for a moment, but decided to just give the bath a quick rinse with hot water instead. When Ginny got home, if he remembered, he'd tell her that this particular tub needed a good cleaning.

By the time he got into Angel's bathroom, both little girls had undressed and were waiting in bathrobes for the tub to be filled.

"Hurry up, Daddy," Angel implored him.

"The water only goes in so fast," Draco reminded her.

"Magic it!"

"Angel, just wait patiently." Draco reached for a large bottle of bubble bath on the counter.

"Not that one! We'll have the special one in the purple bottle," Angel instructed.

"Fine," Draco ground out, replacing the blue bottle and finding the purple bottle. He didn't know what the difference was, but obviously it was important to the girls. As he uncorked the bottle and poured the thick liquid into the bath it occurred to Draco that he'd come across this fragrance before. "Where did you get this, Angel?"

Angel tossed her head haughtily, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "Grandmother gave it to me."

Draco nodded. At least he knew where he'd smelled the bubble bath before. His mother had been using this particular solution for as long as he could remember. "Right, in you both go. Courtney, you did bring pajamas upstairs, didn't you?"

"Yep, they're in my bag," Courtney answered as she clambered into the deep tub.

"Good," Draco muttered as he left the bathroom.

The last thing he wanted to be doing was scouring his daughter's overfull dressing room for a simple pair of pajamas. True to her word, Draco found Courtney's pajamas in her bag. He decided that it was probably easier to allow Angel to get her own pajamas out, than it would be to choose them for her.

When he poked his head into the bathroom, Draco found the girls soaking in the bath with bubbles up to their necks. They looked every bit the princesses they thought they were. "Girls, I might go down and get the boys moving up here."

Angel's eyes widened and she sat up with a rush. "They're not getting in here!"

"They won't be, princess," Draco assured her quickly. "They can use Drake's bathroom."

"That's all right then," Angel sniffed as she settled back into the bubbles.

"I'll be back soon, but if you need any help before then just yell for Millie."

"Yes, Daddy." Angel waved a dismissive hand at her father as her eyes slipped closed.

As he wandered back downstairs the knowledge that Angel was going to give him hair to match his eyes became all too comprehensible. If she was dismissing him so professionally at the age of five, he shuddered to think what she'd be like at fifteen. The noise emanating from the playroom invaded his nightmarish thoughts, pushing them aside to be considered at a later date.

"Boys!" Draco stood just inside the doorway surveying the mess. Toys were strewn all over the floor again and how the boys were still running around without causing themselves injury was a mystery to him. "Drake, Beau and Matthew! Upstairs for a bath now."

Draco waited until the boys had left the room before turning to Millie. "The girls are still in the bath. I'll send them down when they get out. Try to get these two to sit down quietly. Maybe read them a story or something."

"As Master wishes."

"If you could get this mess cleaned up before Ginny gets home as well—"

"Of course, Master." Millie snapped her fingers and the toys began putting themselves away instantly.

"Colin and Declan, you're both to listen to Millie. If you don't, I'll have no choice but to put you both to bed."

The little boys nodded their understanding.

Again Draco made the all too familiar trek to the family quarters and his son's rooms. On the way back, Draco began thinking about when he might be relieved of baby-sitting duty and decided that after he finished bathing all of them he might just have to Floo the Burrow to see what was going on. The notion that Bill and Charlie could be over there sitting back, relaxing at his expense entered his head and refused to leave.

"Get ready for a bath, boys," Draco announced as he crossed the bedchamber on his way to the bathroom. "The bath won't take long to fill."

Although the filthy ring the younger boys had left was no longer visible, Draco gave the bathtub another rinse with hot water before beginning to fill it. He added a generous splash of bubble bath before heading back to the bedchamber to see how the boys were getting along.

Beau and Drake were undressing themselves while they chattered excitedly, but Matthew was still standing in the middle of the room, seemingly lost in his thoughts. The small boy, who hadn't seen Drake's bedroom before now, was looking at everything in awe.

"Come on, Matthew, get a move on," Draco encouraged.

Matthew blinked vacantly at his uncle and moved slowly to the side of the bed. "Is this really your room, Drake?"

Drake frowned at his cousin. "Yeah."

"Wow," Matthew responded breathily.

"Wait until you see the bath," Beau told him. He had had the grand tour last time he'd visited and the pleasure of having a bath in the enormous tub in Drake's private bathroom. "It's like a swimming pool!"

"How about a little less chatter and a little more getting ready?" Draco suggested with a grin. "You three are like a coven of old hags."

His suggestion was met with much amusement from the three little boys.

"I wouldn't laugh if I were you lot. You're starting to sound more and more like your mothers and aunts," Draco warned.

The giggling from the boys increased tenfold at that idea. Draco had a chuckle himself as he wandered back to check the level of the water in the bathtub. He had thought the boys might be horrified at being compared to their female relatives, but it seemed they were too young to be offended by the notion.

"Come on, boys, the bath is ready for your filthy little bodies," Draco called.

He was infinitely glad he'd not approached the door as he beckoned them, because only seconds after the words left his mouth three naked little wizards came charging through the door, heading for the tub in a great hurry.

"It's a little deep, but I'm going to trust you three to behave yourselves in there and not drown each other," Draco instructed, not that the boys acknowledged his words. "Boys!"

"Yes, Daddy?"

"Be careful in there. It's a bit deeper than you'd normally have it, and I don't want to have to explain to _anyone_ with red hair why one of you drowned," Draco explained.

"Yes, Daddy," Drake agreed sincerely, or as sincerely as he could while defending himself from being drowned by a large splash of water.

"Beau, that goes for you too," Draco warned. "No splashing! I don't want to break my neck when I come back in here." He eyed the three little boys in the water. There was definitely some mischief afoot, despite their overly innocent expressions. "I'm just going to check on the girls. I'll be back soon."

The evil giggles that followed him out of the room didn't settle the nagging feeling Draco had in his gut that those three were up to no good. Still, it didn't change the fact that he'd left the girls for some time and he did need to check on them sooner rather than later. In the corridor he came to the conclusion that bathing the boys at the same time as the girls probably wasn't the best decision he could have made, but it was too late to do anything about it now.

Silence greeted him as he walked into Angel's suite. It was enough to quicken his pace towards the bathroom. When he arrived he found the girls lying back in the bath, enjoying their soak and the peace.

"Is everything all right, girls?"

"Yes, Daddy," Angel muttered without opening her eyes.

"How about you wash yourselves, so you can get out soon?"

"Soon," Angel promised.

"I'll be going between here and your brother's bathroom, okay?"

"Uh huh."

"If I'm not here and you need me, just call out."

"Okay."

Draco's spine stiffened as he heard what sounded like a war cry coming from Drake's bathroom. "I'll be back," he called over his shoulder as he took off in the direction of the ever-increasing noise.

Mild panic took over his thoughts, and he failed to register that it would be wise to not run into the bathroom. As a result, the moment one of his feet hit the marble floor it went skating away from him, dragging the rest of his body with it on pure momentum. Draco stopped with a dull thud when he collided with the vanity. Before he even turned around to view the mess his nostrils were flaring with fury.

"Didn't I tell you lot not to splash?" Draco growled, surveying the floor, which was entirely covered with water and bubbles, for good measure. "I trusted you with the deeper water and this is how you repay me?"

"Sorry," one of the boys mumbled.

"Are you ready to get out?"

"We haven't washed ourselves yet," Beau answered bravely.

"Right, well… you have five minutes to wash yourselves from top to toe and then you're getting out." Draco turned on his heel and tried to walk across the slippery floor with some dignity. The moment he cleared the doorway, his hand went to his hip and gave it a much needed rub. There was going to be a nasty bruise there, if he wasn't mistaken.

Before getting the boys out he decided to make certain the girls were washing themselves. With luck he'd be able to get everyone out and into pajamas, and then back downstairs to hopefully do something that was quiet.

"Angel, Courtney, are you two washing yourselves yet?"

"Daddy, can't we just soak?"

"No, you can't. I've got to watch five boys, as well as you two, so I can't stay up here all night."

"Send Millie up."

"Millie is busy at the moment," Draco reminded her. "Start washing yourselves now or you'll be getting out dirty."

Angel mumbled to herself discontentedly as she sat up and reached for the large sponge on the side of the bath.

Satisfied that his orders were now being followed, Draco made his way back to the boys. Even though they were still making enough noise to lift the roof, he hoped they were at least cleaning themselves while they were doing it.

"Are you lot—" An unmanly scream filled the bathroom as Draco slipped in a particularly deep puddle of bubbles and landed on his back.

Draco lay on the floor with his eyes closed trying to take stock of what he thought might be broken or damaged. He could hear someone groaning and wondered distantly if one of the boys was injured.

"Daddy," Drake whispered uncertainly.

"Is he dead?" Beau asked.

"Don't know," Matthew answered.

"Draco? What on earth are you doing down there?"

"Ginny?" Draco cracked open one eye and saw his wife standing in the doorway. "Don't come in… slippery."

"Yeah, I can see that. What happened in here?"

"I bathed the boys."

"Okay," Ginny answered slowly. "And then you decided to wash your robes on the bathroom floor?"

"The little—they splashed water everywhere."

"They tend to do that when there's more than one."

"Someone should have warned me," Draco complained.

"I'm pretty sure you did know that," Ginny pointed out. "Can you get up?"

"Yeah, I'll try." Draco groaned loudly as he rolled over onto his side. It felt like every bone in his body had shattered on impact. Rather than try to gain his footing on the slippery floor, he crawled to the doorway. "When did you get home?"

"Just in time to hear you scream," Ginny replied with a grin.

"Yeah, well you'd scream too if you—" Draco mumbled unintelligibly.

"I was just going to get changed and go down to the kitchen to bake Harry's cake."

"Why don't you just order one?" Draco asked plaintively.

"We've been through this," Ginny responded.

"Your mother would never know and it's not like Harry cares," Draco pointed out for perhaps the hundredth time that week.

"Mum would find out and besides I promised her I would take care of it. The last thing she needs right now is to be disappointed by her family."

"Fine, it was just a suggestion." Draco ran a hand through his hair in frustration and realized that he'd have to clean up himself before going back downstairs. "You wouldn't have happened to have heard from your brothers over the course of the afternoon?"

"Bill called in to the hospital on his way home from work and I haven't seen Charlie since he left the hospital this afternoon." Ginny smiled amusedly at her husband. "How is it that you ended up with all the kids this afternoon?"

"When I got to the Burrow Anya was just about fit to be tied. She really couldn't cope with all the kids and the babies, and somehow instead of leaving there with two I left with eight."

"Eight?"

"Colin and Declan are downstairs with Millie, Angel and Courtney are in the bath, and there's three in there." Draco pointed to the flooded bathroom. "Percy came by while we were eating to pick Britany up, and he's not happy that she was here instead of at the Burrow."

"So they've had dinner and they're in the bath? I'm impressed!" Ginny patted his chest affectionately. "Don't worry about Percy. He'll get over it, not that any of us really care whether he does or not."

"I'm sure he'll vent his displeasure tomorrow when he's got a larger audience."

"The boys will tell him exactly what he can do with his displeasure and hopefully there won't be any kids around at the time, so they can be rude about it."

"I wasn't exactly polite to him," Draco admitted.

"You were probably a whole lot more polite than his brothers would have been," Ginny assured him. "Well, I'll leave you to it. I need to get on with this cake."

"Love, before you go, do you think you can dry the bathroom floor for me?"

Ginny grinned and whipped out her wand. It only took a couple of masterful flicks over the marble floor to improve the situation greatly. "Be careful."

"I've been trying to be careful," Draco retorted as she left the room.

As much as he didn't want to, Draco took a deep breath and entered the bathroom again. Three little boys stared up at him from the bath. He could see just a fine sliver of fear in their eyes and decided to use it to his advantage. "Right, step out onto this towel, dry yourselves off and get into your pajamas. When you're dressed, wait in the sitting room."

Draco stood back and watched them step out of the tub. Once they were all safely standing on the bathroom floor, he went to issue the very same orders to the girls. There was a little ray of hope that the boys would be dressed by the time he got back to them. That tiny drop of fear in their eyes should get them moving without further need to berate them.

"Angel, Courtney, it's time to get out," Draco said as he stepped into the bathroom.

"But we're not finished," Angel complained.

"You are now," Draco responded in an uncompromising tone. "I did warn you, and I wasn't joking."

"Uncle Draco, can you help me out?" Courtney asked, standing up to follow his instructions without question.

"I'll just get a towel for the floor, so you don't fall," Draco answered. He was thankful the girls hadn't made any mess on the floor as he moved across the room to the cupboard where he was certain the servants kept the spare towels.

When a large fluffy towel was in place by the foot of the tub, Draco lifted Courtney from the water and wrapped another towel around her. "Dry yourself quickly and go into the bedroom to get dressed."

Courtney gazed up at him with soulful eyes. "Can you dry me?"

"Err—I'm sure you can manage," Draco answered uncertainly. It was one thing to help his own daughter, but quite another to assist someone else's daughter. "You're a big girl now, right?"

"Sometimes I don't dry myself properly," Courtney informed him expressively.

"Okay, umm—what if I get Aunt Ginny to help you?"

Courtney nodded, happy with the suggestion.

"Good. Angel, are you right to get out of the bath on your own?"

"Yes, Daddy, I do it every night."

"Of course," Draco muttered. "I'll be right back."

Draco hurried down to his own suite, hoping that Ginny was still there, because he didn't feel confident leaving the children for as long as it would take him to walk to the kitchen and back. Just as he reached for the door handle it opened, startling him out of his thoughts with a jolt.

"Is everything all right, Draco?"

"Yeah, umm—Courtney asked me to dry her."

"She's only four."

"Yeah, but I thought you could—"

Ginny sighed wearily. "Where is she?"

"Angel's bathroom."

"Okay, I'll get the girls organized. You take care of the boys."

"Sorry, love, I just didn't—I know I wouldn't like it if—"

"It's fine, Draco," Ginny replied as she entered Angel's room.

Draco stood in the corridor for a couple of minutes. If he'd thought the afternoon was mind boggling, it really had nothing on bath time. All was quiet from within Drake's rooms and that struck him as unusual, especially with three boys in there, or at least he hoped they were still in there.

He only made it as far as the sitting room. All three boys were sitting there, fully dressed, waiting for his return. Draco masked his surprise expertly.

"Everyone's dressed," Draco stated. "I'm impressed."

"Are you all right, Uncle Draco?" Matthew asked concernedly.

"I'll live," Draco responded evasively.

"Are you sore?" Beau inquired.

"A bit," Draco admitted. He couldn't very well lie about that, because no one could hit the floor with that much force and escape injury. "Well, I'd better go and get changed before we go downstairs. Can I trust you lot to keep sitting quietly while I do that?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"Mummy is in Angel's room, so I'll know if you got up to anything," Draco warned good-naturedly.

The boys laughed as he left the room, but it lacked the earlier mischievous tone it held. Draco hurried down to his rooms and changed quickly. While their demeanors promised no mischief, he didn't really trust them not to grow bored and start plotting some heinous torture for him.

On his way back to collect the boys, Ginny stepped into the corridor with two dressed little girls right behind her.

"Boys, we're all ready to go downstairs," Draco called through the doorway.

They didn't have to be told twice, appearing within seconds in the corridor. For the next few minutes the hallway was full of noise as the boys greeted Ginny enthusiastically. Draco stood aside and allowed the boys to make a fuss of his wife, until she'd had enough. At that point Draco stepped in, explaining to the boys that Ginny had a birthday cake to make. It was a mistake of mammoth proportions. All the children instantly began begging to help her at the top of their voices. Somehow Ginny escaped, leaving Draco to deal with five disappointed children.

In an effort to distract them, Draco began to usher them downstairs. Before they made it to the playroom they had extracted promises from Draco for extra slices of cake the following day and several other special treats that he would have to deliver or suffer their wrath.

Millie had the two youngest boys sitting quietly looking at picture books. It seemed like a grand idea to Draco, so he sent Matthew and Courtney to the generously stocked bookshelves in search of a book each that Draco could read aloud to all of them.

With Millie's help, Draco finally got all the children settled in chairs or on the floor with pillows. It took some maneuvering, but finally everyone appeared to be happy with their position and comfort. Draco sat in the armchair he'd reserved for himself and opened the first book. He instructed Millie to remain close by, in case the children required anything.

Colin and Declan drifted off to sleep before the end of the second book. With the children not only remaining quiet, but beginning to drift off to sleep, Draco had Beau choose another book. He didn't mind reading to them, if he was honest with himself. It was actually quite relaxing.

"Will you look at this, Bill? Not only is he the best son-in-law to ever draw breath, he's now an expert babysitter."

Draco's eyes snapped up in the direction of the disturbance. Charlie and Bill were leaning in the doorway, looking entirely too amused for Draco's good. Unable to retort the way he wanted to, because of the youthful ears around him, Draco simply glowered at the pair.

"Daddy," Courtney uttered drowsily.

"Ready to go home?"

The little girl shook her head tiredly groggily. "Uncle Draco hasn't finished the story."

"I think you've invaded Uncle Draco's sanity for long enough today."

"How is your sanity about now?" Bill asked.

"What sanity?" Draco ground out.

The two men chuckled and after a few minutes, Draco joined them. Now that he'd admitted it openly, he really did feel as though his sanity had taken a holiday.

"Daddy, can Courtney sleep over?" Angel asked sweetly. "We'll be good, won't we, Courtney?"

"Well, I don't—"

Angel pouted and looked at her father from under her lashes. "_Please_, Daddy."

Draco sighed. He couldn't see any reason why not. One extra wouldn't make any difference to them. "If it's all right with Uncle Bill."

Both girls shot hopeful looks in Bill's direction. Draco could tell, even before Bill offered his opinion, what his response was going to be.

"Only if you're sure, Draco," Bill answered.

Drake sat forward and looked at his father. "If Courtney's staying then Matthew and Beau get to stay as well!"

"I—umm—" If everyone hadn't been looking at him so hopefully, including Bill and Charlie, he might have actually been able to spit out the 'no' that had caught in his throat, but as it was Draco couldn't quite refuse. "Sure, why not?"

"They must have done something to him," Charlie whispered loudly to Bill.

"Confunded perhaps?"

Charlie nodded thoughtfully as though musing the most important of thoughts "We'll figure it out tomorrow."

"Yeah, may as well wait until then," Bill agreed. "No point in wasting a good Confundus charm."

"I guess we'll see you tomorrow, Draco," Charlie said.

"We'll meet you at the Burrow in time for lunch," Bill assured him.

"Hang on," Draco blurted, trying to get to his feet. "What about these two?"

The two Weasley men looked in the direction that Draco was waving his arm. Two sleeping three-year-olds met their gaze.

"What about them?" Bill asked cheekily.

"I'm not keeping them as well," Draco answered indignantly.

Charlie rolled his eyes comically. "Fine, we'll wake them up and take them home then."

"Good," Draco responded.

"You know, I hate waking them up once they're asleep. They get so grumpy," Charlie griped, glancing at Draco to check his reaction.

"If you're trying to make me feel guilty—"

"Not at all," Charlie answered. "Just stating the facts."

"Facts that aren't going to change my mind," Draco stated firmly.

Bill shook his head repentantly. "I'm going to have to get Beau to work on strengthening his Confundus charm."

"Yeah, then we'd be able to offload the whole lot onto any unsuspecting victim." Charlie's smug grin was coupled with a quick glance at his blond brother-in-law.

Draco was beginning to regret agreeing to allow the other three to stay over. If he had just said no then he wouldn't be getting subjected to this bizarre form of torture. He watched the two men pick the sleeping boys up in their arms.

"We'll see you all tomorrow then," Bill said. "You lot behave yourselves."

"Thanks, Draco," Charlie intoned genuinely. "Anya was about to lose her mind when you showed up this afternoon."

"Yeah, well—" Draco muttered. "See you tomorrow."

With final goodbyes and warnings to behave, the two men left the parlor with the little boys. Draco turned around and looked at his charges, wondering just how they'd managed to get him to agree so easily.

"Are you going to finish the story, Daddy?" Drake asked hesitantly.

"Come and sit down, Daddy," Angel offered warmly.

"No, I think it's time for bed," Draco said firmly.

The avalanche of protests started immediately, but Draco remained firm and steadfastly refused to meet the pleading gaze of any one child, especially his own daughter. With Millie's assistance he managed to get all five children tucked into bed and settled down within half an hour. He knew they'd most likely talk and giggle for a little while, but he found he didn't care just as long as they stayed in bed.

He left Millie in the corridor between the twins' rooms, just in case someone got out of bed or needed assistance. Safe in the knowledge that the children couldn't escape, Draco wandered down to the kitchen. His stomach had been rumbling for some time, and he decided that it was probably about time he ate dinner, as he had chosen not to indulge when the children ate. Before he even reached the doorway he could hear Ginny issuing orders to the servants, mostly to the tune of removing themselves from her space.

Rather than barge on in, Draco paused in the doorway. Ginny was up to her elbows in flour and there was an endearing smudge on her forehead. The servants were milling about her legs, waiting for any indication that she might need something from them. They were certainly uncomfortable with her active presence in the kitchen, but she took no notice of them or was deliberately ignoring their obvious distress.

"You look like you're having fun," Draco commented, letting his presence be known.

"I just want to get it done, so I can relax." Ginny didn't look up from her task. "Has everyone been picked up?"

"Well... You see—"

"What, Draco?"

"We have some house guests for the night," Draco admitted quietly.

"How many?"

"Three."

"Let me guess: Beau, Matthew and Courtney?"

"Yeah."

Ginny nodded wearily. "At least they're not any trouble."

"Have you had dinner?" Draco asked, changing the subject. He had no desire to inform his tired wife just how much trouble her nephews were.

"I got something at the hospital."

"A cup of tea and a stale scone?"

"Something like that," Ginny admitted with a wry smile.

"That's two for dinner," Draco instructed the nearest servant.

"As Master wishes."

All the servants abandoned their efforts to assist Ginny in favor of preparing a meal for their master. Draco strolled up to where Ginny was doing unimaginable things, in his mind, to flour and milk and whatever else she had in the enormous mixing bowl. His arms went around her from behind and he leaned against her back, placing a lingering kiss on her neck. "You're going to stop and have dinner with me," he whispered into her ear.

"I can't stop until it's in the oven," Ginny said distractedly.

"Fine, but then you're stopping and eating something decent."

"Okay, but can you just—"

Draco didn't need to be told he was limiting her movement and probably annoying her, so he stepped back before she'd even finished asking.

"Master will be eating in the dining room?" a servant inquired.

"No," Ginny answered immediately. "You can set two places at the other end of the table."

Draco shot an appalled look at his wife, but wisely did not protest. He nodded at the servant, sending it on its way. It had been well over a decade since he'd last eaten in the kitchen; the last time being while he was still a student and he'd snuck down for a snack after not finishing his dinner.

"How was your day?" Ginny asked suddenly.

"Fine. I finished everything at the office. I would have liked to have spent the afternoon just with the twins, but it didn't work out that way."

"Thank you for helping Anya out. I had no idea she'd have all the kids today."

"She was pretty close to losing it when I got there," Draco admitted.

"I just hope Mum gets out of hospital soon." Ginny sighed tiredly.

"Has Wilson said anything about when he might release her?"

"No, not a word, but then she's not well enough to even consider being at home yet."

"I think we should have a meeting with him early next week, just to check on her progress and what his prognosis for release might be."

"That's a good idea," Ginny agreed.

"I'll set it up on Monday."

"Thank you."

"Oh, why did you tell my secretary to block out all of next Saturday?"

"We're having a dinner party," Ginny replied with a frown.

"Is there an occasion for this dinner party?"

"To thank our attendants from the wedding."

"I thought I was helping you—"

"And just when were we going to have it then?"

"Well, all you had to do—"

"Is plan it and make certain your secretary blocked the day and night off."

"The impression I got from you was that you didn't know how to—"

Ginny put down the large spoon she'd been stirring the cake mixture with and pinned her husband with a look that might have been deadly had she not been exhausted. "I decided I couldn't wait for you to step up and help me or we'd be hosting it sometime around our tenth anniversary, so I went ahead and made my own plans. I figured that it's our thank you to our friends, so I could make it what I wanted rather than conform to whatever it is you think is a dinner party."

"Love, whatever you want is fine with me." Draco held his hands up in surrender. "I just thought you wanted help."

"I did to begin with."

"I'm sorry, I should have helped you plan it when you first asked."

"Yes, you should have."

"You know, I think it's better that you did it yourself though."

"Why?"

"Like you said, it's our thank you to our friends, so it should be personal and not just another version of my mother's dinner parties." Draco smiled warmly at her, hoping that his words of encouragement would be enough to quell her irritation. "I've a feeling everyone is going to have a brilliant time next Saturday."

"I hope so."

"Is there anything I can do to help at this late stage?"

"Yes." Ginny smiled wickedly. "Don't even think about working that day."

"I won't, I promise."

"Master's dinner is ready. Master should eat while food is hot," a servant interrupted.

"Ginny, leave that for now and come eat."

"I want to get it in the oven first."

"How long?"

"A few minutes."

"Cast warming charms over our meals," Draco instructed the servants.

When Ginny was happy with the consistency of the mixture, she upended the bowl into a large rectangle pan. Draco watched the chocolate batter spill out of the bowl with great interest. It had been years since he'd watched a cake being made from scratch and he found the process quite fascinating. After she had placed the pan into the large oven at the end of the kitchen, they sat down at the preparation table to finally eat dinner. He hoped that he'd be able to convince her to come to bed after they'd eaten, not to do anything other than sleep, because he was exhausted himself, but the idea of holding her while he slipped into a slumber to rival the dead was most appealing.

* * *

Draco dropped into a chair at the table in the garden of the Burrow. He'd all but ignored the varied greetings from the family as he made his way from the sitting room to the yard. All he wanted was five minutes peace and quiet; just enough time to gather his thoughts without someone giving him an order or asking him a question or, god forbid, screaming in his ears. The morning had been horrific in ways he'd not ever contemplated existed. One would think that the addition of a few extra children and the absence of his wife wouldn't have made that much difference, but his experience told a different story.

Ginny had, according to the note she'd left him, eaten an early breakfast, put the finishing touches on Harry's birthday cake and left for the hospital to check on her mother. She also informed him that he was to meet her at the Burrow with the cake, gifts and the children. At the time Draco saw no problem with this, but in hindsight he should have known that he simply wasn't equipped to deal with everything on his own.

The inclusion of Beau, Matthew and Courtney into their Sunday morning routine had elevated the noise level five-hundred percent and had diminished Draco's patience to non-existent. His ears were still ringing from Courtney's delighted squeal at breakfast when she discovered the house elves would prepare whatever her heart desired, within reason, for the morning meal. It was a regrettable error in his generally excellent judgment to inform her of that. The antics of the boys — all three of them — even had Millie shaking her head in disgust and muttering under her breath about wicked little wizards.

It wasn't until after breakfast, when it was time to get dressed for Harry's birthday lunch at the Burrow, that Draco realized just how bad things could get. Draco was accustomed to Angel fussing and he knew very well the sort of attire Ginny preferred her to wear to the Burrow. He was prepared to do battle as he entered her suite, but to his utter horror Courtney had found her inner princess overnight and had decided that throwing a temper tantrum, in stereo with Angel, was likely to get her what she wanted. Both little girls had gone through Angel's entire wardrobe, stripping it of everything before each settled on a dress that would have been more at home in a ballroom than in the backyard of their grandparents home. He had immediately said no, and, looking back, that was probably where he went wrong — they started crying at that point.

Draco had wandered onto Angel's balcony, just to take a break from the god-awful sounds that were assaulting his ears in the bedchamber, when he spied the boys. From where he stood, it looked as though they'd raided the house elves stock of clothing, thrown it on and ran outside to find the first patch of mud to roll in.

While he was admonishing the boys and sending them to Millie for a bath, the girls had decided to get ready to leave — in the ball gowns, complete with a generous layer of Ginny's makeup and more than a heavy splash of expensive perfume. The only thing he could be grateful for were the security charms on Ginny's jewelry cases—at least the girls hadn't gotten into those.

In the end, he'd allowed his frustration to evolve into anger. The boys were threatened, in no uncertain terms, that any further misbehavior would result in three very unhappy little wizards. When he went to deliver the same message to the two little misses down the hall, Angel and Courtney burst into fresh tears. Draco immediately took refuge in his own rooms and sent Millie to ensure they were cooperating.

An hour later Draco was standing by the hearth in the parlor with five children, a cake large enough to feed the student body of Hogwarts, a large gift-wrapped box, two smaller gift-wrapped boxes and his Quidditch gear, including his broomstick, for the game they were sure to have this afternoon, wondering how on earth he was supposed to get everything to the Burrow in one piece.

He'd started by sending the children through the Floo Network, and then Millie had happened upon him staring at all that had to be taken with a deep frown. After a little encouragement the wise house elf had suggested he leave the cake to her and she'd made certain it was delivered in perfect condition. Then he passed the parcels through the Floo, following as soon as he was certain he'd not forgotten anything.

People had begun to spill into the yard with increasing regularity and he knew his peace was going to be short lived. Draco remained in his chair, pretending he wasn't really there in the hope that everyone would just leave him alone for a bit longer. It was fruitless, of course. He heard them before he saw them: his brothers-in-law — all of them _together_. A plot to run away as fast as he could began to form, but he hadn't quite sorted out the finer details when the chairs surrounding him started to become occupied.

"Did the kids give you a hard night, Draco?" Bill asked curiously.

"No."

"Must have been the morning that got to you then," Charlie commented smugly.

Draco looked around at the expectant, but amused faces surrounding him. Another plan began to form in his mind. It was better than the first one and should see him left in peace and quiet for the rest of the day if it worked. He leaned back in his chair, forcing a confident smirk onto his features. "Actually, it was the in between."

Ron frowned. "The what?"

"Didn't the kids sleep well?" Bill asked, reiterating his initial question.

"I hope they did," Draco answered vaguely. "I'd hate to think what they might have heard if they were awake."

"Heard?" Percy posed.

Draco leaned forward and rested his arms on the table, as if he was going to tell them a grand secret. "You see… your sister… she gets a bit vocal at times."

"Wasn't she impressed with the kids sleeping over?" Charlie inquired.

"She didn't care, as long as it didn't disturb our _activities_, and it didn't," Draco responded with a cheeky smirk. "I just hope she didn't wake any of them."

"Exactly what might they have heard?" Bill asked, even though his expression told Draco he didn't really want to hear the answer.

"Well, if the kids start asking questions… Just tell them that their Aunt Ginny wasn't dying or in pain, and God doesn't reside in our chambers."

"I didn't need to know that," Ron muttered.

"Are you trying to tell me that Pansy is leaving you alone now?" Draco asked, diverting the attention away from himself now that he'd planted a seed of disgust in their minds.

"No… Well—" Ron's eyes went to the back door as his fiancée came into view.

"Sweet Merlin!" Draco blurted without thinking. He hadn't really taken any notice of Pansy's changing shape last time he saw her. It wasn't as if he didn't expect to see her body changing with pregnancy, but it looked as though she'd shoved a Quaffle under her dress. "How on earth do you manage?"

Ron flushed beet-red to the very tips of his ears and began to stammer something unintelligible.

"Forget I asked… I don't want to know," Draco interrupted, suddenly realizing that his mouth was operating without permission from his brain.

"Are you sure, Draco? I can give you a stroke for stroke description if you'd like," Pansy offered nefariously as she wandered towards the men.

"Err—no, thank you." Draco cursed himself mentally for not only voicing such a question, but also for doing it loudly. The last thing he wanted was to know what his brother-in-law got up to behind closed doors or how he got up to it.

Pansy laughed at his mortified expression. "Oh, darling Draco, you're going to have to start getting a little more creative yourself soon enough."

"The difference is I won't feel a need to share such information."

"I was only offering to answer the question you asked," Pansy responded innocently.

"It was a rhetorical question," Draco replied with a hint of haughtiness. "You ought to know the difference by now."

"Bollocks! Your mouth ran away from you again," Pansy chided. "You ought to know that you can't fool me, I've known you way too long, Draco Malfoy."

"I—umm—I need a drink," Draco muttered, leaving the table quickly. Her laughter echoed in his ears all the way across the yard, reminding him that she did indeed know him too well.

"Draco, you snuck in quietly."

"Oh, Harry, umm—Happy birthday." Draco offered his hand to the other wizard.

"Thanks. Is everything all right?"

"Yes, of course."

"There you are! Go and sit down. I'll bring you your drink," Hermione ordered as she ushered Harry off in the direction of the rest of the men. "Hello, Draco. Is Ginny coming or is she staying with Molly?"

"I—err—" Draco's eyes were firmly focused on Hermione's belly. _Bloody hell, how do they manage to shag,_ his brain inserted, rendering him effectively speechless.

"Draco?" Hermione touched his arm, a light frown creasing her brow.

Angelina crept over to stand beside Hermione. "Is he all right?"

"I don't know," Hermione whispered.

"Draco, why don't you come and sit down," Angelina suggested calmly, placing her arm around his shoulders comfortingly.

He looked slightly to his left, but there was just another pregnant belly there — one that was even bigger again. _It's a conspiracy. They were sent over here to mess with my head, _Draco thought, none too calmly. His mind fought to remember what to say in this situation. There was a phrase that was always related to pregnant women — one that was guaranteed not to offend. _Sunny… flowers… NO!_ Draco tried to focus, but it was impossible. _How do they do it?_ "I'm fine," he eventually ground out.

"Are you sure?" Angelina pressed concernedly.

Draco nodded, forcing himself to avert his gaze away from the two women. He felt as though he was beginning to lose his mind.

"If you say so," Angelina responded skeptically.

He breathed a sigh of relief as they walked away together. Now all he had to do was refocus his thoughts, preferably somewhere far away from the bedrooms of certain family members, and he'd be able to get through the day, he hoped. A drink was what he desperately needed at the moment, preferably something that would obliterate those nasty visions that had popped into his head. Draco picked up a bottle of Mead, draining its contents without breaking for air, and then picked another up to take back to the table.

Draco only got a few steps away from the table when he saw Ginny appear in the corner of the yard. Relief flooded through him when he saw that she was still the same size as she was the evening before — just showing a small bulge to prove his child existed within her body. He diverted his course when she made a beeline straight for him.

"Hello, love." Draco greeted her with a soft kiss. "How's your mother this morning?"

"She's less grumpy than she was yesterday," Ginny responded with a grin. "Did you get everything here?"

"Yes, the cake, the gifts and all the children."

"The cake made it here undamaged?"

"It did."

"How?"

"Millie," Draco mumbled into his bottle of Mead.

Ginny arched an eyebrow at him.

"Millie suggested that she take the cake so it made it here unscathed," he explained.

"Good." Ginny smiled knowingly. "I was worried you might try to take it on your own."

"You mean you would have used—"

"Of course! Draco, I don't have to tell you that house elf magic is stronger than ours."

"No, of course not."

"How did this morning go with the children?"

"Fine," he lied.

"Really?"

Draco nodded absently, fixing his gaze just above her left shoulder, just in case she'd begun to read him well enough to detect the little white lie.

"Wonderful. Now, where's Harry? I should wish him a happy birthday before we start lunch."

"He's sitting at the table."

Ginny threaded her arm through Draco's, insisting he walk with her to the table. It wasn't until Draco started overhearing odd comments from his brothers-in-law as his wife greeted them that he regretted his earlier attempt to gain some peace and quiet.

"You really ought to let a bloke get a good night's rest, Ginny," Fred scolded.

"Poor bloke was knackered this morning," George told her.

"If my kids start asking funny questions, I'll be sending them straight to you," Bill warned his sister.

"That goes double for me," Charlie added.

"The least you can do is tell him not to tell us," Ron uttered crossly.

"What on earth are you lot on about?" Ginny inquired, obviously confused.

"He told us—"

"They're just teasing you, love," Draco cut in quickly.

"I'm deadly serious," Bill said firmly.

"Why don't you head into the kitchen? I'm sure the women in there will appreciate an extra pair of hands," Draco suggested, trying to usher Ginny away from the table.

"I'm sure they can do without me for another few minutes," Ginny said, standing her ground.

"They'll want to know how your mother is today," Draco insisted, a note of urgency slipping into his tone.

"They can wait. What did you tell the boys?"

Her deliberate gaze was starting to burn him. He was trapped and there was no way out. All he could hope to do was minimize the damage at this stage. "I just told them what we did last night," he answered as casually as he could.

"What we did? It wasn't terribly exciting." Ginny frowned when her brothers started sniggering.

"They must have boring home lives," Draco whispered, in an attempt to put an end to any further explaining.

Ginny laughed. "Oh, boys, if you think baking a cake, eating dinner and then lying awake listening to Draco snore for half an hour before drifting off is exciting, then you're all in need of help."

"I think you forgot something," Charlie said with a wicked grin.

"Nope, I don't think so. I got home from the hospital, helped Draco finish bathing the girls, baked Harry's cake, ate dinner, showered, and went to bed," Ginny listed.

"So we don't have to worry about any— noise the kids might have heard?" Bill asked awkwardly.

"Noise? Merlin no! We were in the kitchen."

"The kitchen!" Ron looked disgusted. "Remind me not to eat any cake."

"Says he who thinks the broom shed has another purpose," Draco retorted without engaging his brain.

"Why do I get the feeling that I'm the only one talking about baking a cake here?" Ginny asked, looking to each of the men.

Draco stepped between his wife and her brothers, effectively blocking her view. "Love, it's just their depraved minds twisting what I said earlier. Just ignore them. Their foolishness isn't worth worrying about," he whispered. "Go into the kitchen. The girls were asking after you earlier, wondering when you were getting here."

Ginny looked around Draco at her brothers, all of who appeared to be almost bursting with restrained laughter. Draco was right; she didn't have the patience or the energy to deal with their silly interpretations. "All right, I'm going."

He waited until Ginny was safely inside before turning back to the table. "Are you lot trying to get me killed?"

"We weren't to start with—"

"But now that you mention it—"

Draco shot a withering glare at the twins. "Ask yourself what your spouses would do to you if they thought you'd been bragging about activities not generally discussed in polite company."

Much to Draco's aggravation a few confused looks bounced around the table after his outburst.

"Forget it," Draco snapped irritably, dropping himself into his chair. "Just bloody well forget it!"

"Come on, mate," Charlie crooned amiably. "We would have pulled her off before you stopped breathing."

Draco folded his arms across his chest and did his level best to ignore the men around him. He had no one to blame but himself, but that was beside the point. They should have had enough sense not to speak about such things in front of their sister, especially when it could cost lives — namely his.

* * *

"Good morning, everyone," Ginny called as she walked through the kitchen door and hung her cloak on a hook.

Through the bustling activity half a dozen greetings reached her ears.

"Ginny, that cake is amazing," Hermione exclaimed, hugging her friend briefly.

"It was nothing," Ginny responded modestly. "Now, what can I do to help?"

"There's a chicken casserole in the oven that needs checking," Anya said as she walked past with her arms full of dishes.

"Consider it done!"

Ginny had just decided that the casserole could do with another ten minutes or so when a wail came from the sitting room. "I'll go."

"If that's Henri, can you take him out to Bill?" Fleur requested as Ginny rushed to the upset infant's side.

"Okay," Ginny acknowledged, scooping Henri into her arms and trying to calm him down. "You are making a big fuss, aren't you, little man?"

"Is he all right?" Fleur poked her head through the door.

"I think he might be hungry," Ginny responded over the noise her nephew was filling the room with.

"I'll get him a bottle," Fleur offered.

"While your mummy's doing that I think we might change your bottom, just to shut you up before you wake up anyone else," Ginny crooned in a singsong voice.

Within minutes Henri settled down, quite happy to kick his little legs around, sans nappy. Ginny watched him while she waited for Fleur to prepare his bottle, not wanting to upset the baby by dressing him right away.

"Here you go." Fleur handed the bottle to Ginny.

"You should sit down for a few minutes and feed him yourself," Ginny said.

"There is too much to be done. Bill can feed him."

"All right, I'll dress him and take him out."

"Thank you."

After dressing Henri, Ginny delivered her unimpressed nephew to his father's arms. Draco's demeanor didn't escape her attention.

"Is everything all right, Draco?" Ginny asked quietly.

"Yes, why wouldn't it be?"

"I was just curious."

"I'm fine."

"Okay, I'll just leave you alone then."

"Thank you."

Ginny frowned as she wandered back inside. "Does anyone know what the boys did to upset Draco?"

"I think it was more a case of what he did to upset them," Pansy answered.

"What did he do?"

"It backfired as far as I can tell."

"What backfired?"

"Well, they told you didn't they."

"Told me what, Pansy?"

"About how you got really loud last night."

"Doing what?"

Pansy rolled her eyes with exasperation. "You and Draco in bed... He warned the boys that if the kids had any questions—"

"In _bed_? The only noise that came from our bed last night was his snoring! He started before his head even hit the pillow."

The women in the kitchen started laughing.

"Oh, it's all starting to make sense now." Ginny nodded. "I thought there was something odd about their comments. He told me they'd just twisted his words with their filthy minds."

"He definitely told them," Pansy assured her.

Ginny sank into a chair at the table and put her head in her hands. "What am I going to do?"

"Let them believe what they want," Anya told her.

"Then punish your fantasizing husband mercilessly when you get home," Angelina suggested.

"No, she can punish him here," Pansy insisted. "After all, we deserve some entertainment."

"Oh no, humiliating won't be enough." Fleur shook her head. "He needs to pay for talking like that."

"Mmm... Something shiny ought to make you feel better, Ginny," Katie suggested. "A couple carets at the very least."

Ginny raised her head just a little. Her sisters-in-law were all looking at her with amusement dancing in their eyes. "I could really kill him."

"Go on then," Pansy encouraged. "I'll hold him down, if you want."

"You're really blood thirsty," Hermione commented, giving the black-haired witch a wary look.

Pansy shrugged casually. "It's the hormones."

Ginny laid her head on the table and started laughing. The whole situation was ludicrous.

"Lunch is ready to be served," Anya announced, pulling the last dish from the large oven. "Maybe if we put food in front of them they'll refrain from telling stories."

The kitchen came alive once again with movement. All of the women were accustomed to serving for the entire family and within minutes everything was on the table outside, ready to be devoured.

Ginny had deliberately headed straight for Draco with an enormous platter of chicken pieces, and as she leaned over him she whispered in his ear, "We're going to have a little chat later."

"Yes, dear," Draco grumbled. He didn't have to be told that she knew what he'd done; Pansy was grinning at him in a manner that made his blood run cold.

For the time being, Draco pushed aside the feeling of dread that had settled in his belly and distracted himself with the feast the girls had prepared. Even he had to admit they'd outdone themselves. It was as if Molly Weasley had overseen every morsel of food that had landed on the table for their consumption.

"Draco, can you help the twins please?" Ginny asked as she filled two plates with food.

"Aren't you serving them?"

"No, I'm making up plates for Mum and Dad."

He grabbed two more plates and began selecting what he thought they might eat without a fuss.

"Ginny, you should have made Dad come home for lunch," Bill said.

"I tried, but he wouldn't budge," Ginny admitted. "I'll take these to the hospital this afternoon and show him what he missed."

"Can't someone else take them?" Draco snapped irritably.

Ginny looked up, her eyes wide and her mouth open ready to respond in kind.

"I mean, you've spent just about every waking moment at the hospital this week, Ginny. I think it's time you devoted an hour or so to your own family," Draco rushed on.

"_Mum_ is my family."

"What about your children?" Draco hissed across the table.

"Pansy and I can take the food in," Ron offered quickly. "We haven't seen Mum this weekend."

"Haven't you got dinner plans?" Ginny questioned.

"Yeah, but we can go before dinner," Ron assured her. "Harry, you don't mind if we drop by the hospital, do you?"

"Not at all," Harry responded with a smirk.

Ginny shook her head. "No, I want them to have it for dinner and you'll get there too late."

"We can leave early, Ginny." Harry winked at Ron. "Anyway, I've got to go and see Molly today or she'll string me up."

Draco watched the conversation curiously. He wasn't positive, but he thought that Ron might have just saved his neck for some unknown reason. Once he'd delivered a plate of food to each of his children, along with orders to eat everything, Draco resumed his seat. He looked across the table at his youngest brother-in-law, who was grinning at him knowingly.

When Ginny had moved to the far end of the table, Ron leaned over the table towards Draco and whispered, "Well, say thank you."

"What for?" Draco asked a little haughtily. The thoughts may have been present in his mind, but it didn't mean he had to admit to it.

"I just saved your skin."

"I am perfectly capable of fighting my own battles, Weasley," Draco drawled.

"That's a bit hard to do when she's removed your balls, Malfoy," Harry scoffed in hushed tones. "Which she was seconds away from doing, I might add."

"Even I know when not to push her," Ron scoffed.

Draco grumbled to himself. To be seen as needing help was undignified, even if it was the truth. "Fine! Thank you," he hissed.

Ron beamed across the table. "You're welcome."

"Anytime!" Harry slapped Draco on the back heartily and started eating his lunch. "Just think of us when you're enjoying your time with Ginny this afternoon."

"I find thoughts of either of you rather damaging to my performance," Draco quipped.

"Not another word!" Ron dropped his cutlery and clamped his hands firmly over his ears. "I don't want to know!"

Draco smirked. Some of the balance in his world had been restored. He had Ron fearsome of what he might hear again, and Harry was concentrating so hard on his food that he might never emerge again to bother him. All he had to do now was put things right with Ginny.

He hadn't meant to snap or sound so hard-hearted, it had just come out that way. It was probably because he had been feeling a bit abandoned this week, not that Draco would ever admit that aloud. There was no doubt in his mind that Ginny was worried for her mother, and he'd been as supportive as he could — going beyond the call of duty many times — more so than some of her brothers, but he did crave some of her undivided attention for a few hours at least.

A solid plan was what he needed to crawl his way back into his wife's good graces. They would certainly have to spend some time with the children, but perhaps he could convince Ginny to have an intimate dinner with him, and then spend the rest of the evening relaxing in each other's company or entertaining themselves with more energetic activities if she preferred. Still, he had a few hours to sort out the details and form a solid strategy for attack before they returned home. If he got the opportunity, he could even start softening her up before they left, but only if none of the other men were around to see him work his magic. After all, he couldn't have them knowing the secret to the Malfoy charm.

* * *

_**AUTHOR'S NOTES**_

_Thanks to Rainpuddle13 for her amazing beta skills and entertaining plot discussions._


	11. Smashing Success

**_Disclaimer_**_: I don't own any of the characters you may recognize from the wonderful world of Harry Potter, they all belong to the revered JK Rowling; I just like to play with them a little._

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

**SMASHING SUCCESS**

Draco rolled over as the sun danced across his face and reached for his wife, drawing her flush against his body. In his opinion, every Saturday should start this way, most especially after the last two weeks they'd somehow survived. She groaned lightly as he disturbed her, but seemed to settle back to sleep after cuddling into him further. While he lay there taking in the unique scent of her hair, his mind wandered to the last fortnight of hell, and he reaffirmed his hope that life would now resume a more normal pace.

From Monday to Wednesday the days had mirrored the week beforehand, with Ginny constantly at the hospital and the children left in the care of whatever relative wasn't at the hospital or work. Then, to everyone's relief, Molly had been released on Thursday afternoon. However, this only served to create a whole new set of problems. Ginny, it seemed, had taken it into her head that no one else could care for Molly as well as she did, and it wouldn't have been a problem, except for the fact that Charlie and Anya had agreed to remain at the Burrow for as long as Molly needed assistance, so the rest of the family could resume their regular lives, apart from additional visits just to keep the Weasley matriarch entertained.

Draco had only been made aware of the problem on Friday afternoon when Charlie had Flooed him. It seemed that he'd tried to convince Ginny to go home, but she was steadfastly refusing, and Anya was starting to make noises about returning to Hogsmeade, because there was little point in remaining at Ottery Street Catchpole if she wasn't allowed to even serve her mother-in-law a simple cup of tea. After some discussion, it was decided that Charlie would Side-Along Apparate Ginny home, against her will if necessary, and Draco would meet them there, rather than have the whole situation explode where Molly could hear.

Needless to say, Ginny was furious when she realized she had been transported home. Charlie had, apparently, decided against asking her to come of her own volition. She'd railed for an hour or so about her brother stealing her wand, which he had slipped to Draco when she wasn't looking, and forcing her to return to the manor when she should be at the Burrow looking after her mother, not that Charlie had hung around to hear what she thought of him. Draco had done the only thing he could do in the circumstances: asked Charlie to bring the twins home a bit later, closed the door to the parlor, made himself comfortable and watched his wife as she stormed back and forth while venting her displeasure. When it appeared that she'd run out of things to yell about, he'd gently coaxed her upstairs and into a warm bubble bath. By the time she was ready to get out, Ginny had calmed down considerably. She was still swearing vengeance against Charlie, but Draco figured that was his problem and certainly nothing the Hogwarts Professor couldn't handle.

It had been Bill who escorted the twins home late in the afternoon. Charlie, evidently, had more sense than to show his face around his sister until she'd had long enough to calm down. Although, he didn't turn up himself, Charlie had given his oldest brother specific instructions to make sure that he sighted a living, breathing Draco before he left, just in case Ginny had turned her murderous thoughts into actions. After Bill left, they'd spent a quiet evening in each other's company, and while she wasn't entirely happy, she didn't mention the incident again.

He knew Ginny would spend much of today making certain everything was ready for this evening's dinner party, so he'd planned to make himself and the children scarce for most of the day, unless she objected, of course. However, in an effort to ensure she was well rested, he had left unquestionable instructions with the servants that they weren't to be disturbed until they emerged from their chambers. The last thing he wanted was for her to have a miserable evening due to being exhausted.

Draco heard the door to their bedchamber creak open slowly, and he turned cautiously to see who was courageous enough to intrude on their privacy. Drake's head peeked around the edge of the door.

"Daddy?"

"Go down to breakfast, mate," Draco whispered. "Mummy and I are having a sleep in."

"But you're not asleep."

"I would be if I wasn't talking to you." Draco glanced at Ginny, who appeared to be still sleeping soundly. "Go and have breakfast, then you can play for a while. Tell Angel the same thing."

"Okay, but can we take the brooms out today?"

"If it's all right with Mummy."

Drake let loose a delighted squeal.

"Shh!"

"Did I wake Mummy?"

Draco checked his sleeping wife quickly. "No, you're lucky."

The little boy's face dropped. "Oh."

"If you wake her up there's no way she's going to agree to us flying today," Draco said in a harsh whisper, catching on instantly to what his son had hoped for.

Drake's eyes popped open in alarm. "I'm going to eat breakfast."

"Smart choice," Draco muttered to himself as the door closed and he was once again left with the even breathing of his wife and his thoughts.

With no sign of Ginny waking any time soon, Draco allowed his eyes to drift closed again. He was enjoying simply holding her while she slept. Thoughts of what he'd like to do today and how tonight was going to go began to grow fuzzy in his brain as sleep slowly took hold.

* * *

As the haze of sleep lifted slowly from his mind, Draco felt other feelings take up predominant positions in his brain, feelings that clouded all other thought processes. His first clear thought was about how hard he was along the lines of finding any excuse necessary to lay in bed with his generous wife more often. He let out a groan of appreciation as her tongue taunted his body in the most pleasurable way possible. This was definitely what Saturday mornings — if it was still morning, not that he actually cared at this point — were all about.

"You're awake," she purred.

"I am."

"I got hungry."

"You could have ordered breakfast."

"I decided to help myself."

"I'm not complaining."

"I didn't think you would," she muttered before claiming his mouth.

Draco wrapped his arms around her, and then rolled her onto her back while his tongue danced with hers. Much to his delight, she'd shed her nightwear before waking him up in the most enjoyable manner possible, in any man's opinion. His hands ran down her sides, caressing her skin softly, as his mouth trailed over the milky flesh of her neck. Little moans of appreciation reached his ears, telling him how pleased she was with his attention.

An hour later, while he waited for his lungs to start functioning again, Draco's eyes drifted over to his wife. She looked glorious laying against their black satin sheets, all flushed with her chest heaving for oxygen. If he hadn't just poured a week's worth of energy into her, he suspected his groin would be twitching for permission to get close to such an enchanting vision again. Draco allowed his eyes to roam downwards. He came to the small, almost indiscernible bulge in her midsection and a smile began to tug at his lips — his child was safely cocooned inside there. The warm, loving feelings that had begun to creep over him were suddenly pushed aside by the most horrendous of thoughts, given he was lying there, naked, with his panting wife. Again his brain demanded that he discovered the secret of sex with a heavily pregnant woman. Unbidden images of his sisters-in-law and their husbands in scenes that threatened to send him insane invaded his thoughts.

"Are you all right?" Ginny asked, her senses returning to her slowly.

"Err—yeah, I'm fine, love." Draco shook his head to clear the nightmarish images from his brain.

"Then why do you look like you've just seen a dragon pooping on dinner plate?"

"No reason," Draco replied lightly in an attempt to close the subject.

Ginny propped herself up on one elbow and began to traced lines over his chest. "Draco, tell me the truth."

He closed his eyes and tried to think of a way out of explaining to her what he was thinking about. If he could have thought of something else to explain his expression he would have used it, but as it was his mind was completely blank — except for visions of pregnant women in lewd positions. "It's nothing. Don't worry about it."

"Draco, it can't be nothing. Just tell me."

"No, it's not important."

"Draco."

He groaned miserably, the warning in her tone was unmistakable. "It's just—I keep thinking—"

"What?"

"Well, everyone keeps saying—"

"Saying what?"

Draco turned to face her, making a conscious decision to relieve himself of his burden. "You know how you want to—well you're more... affectionate than before."

"Yes, it's perfectly natural."

"Yeah, well I was thinking—" Draco took a deep breath, steeling himself to voice his query. "When you get big, really big how will we—"

Ginny started to giggle. It wasn't difficult to see where he was going with this awkward line of discussion. "There are ways, I believe."

"You believe? You mean you don't know?"

"I wasn't exactly with anyone when I was pregnant with the twins," Ginny reminded him.

"Oh, so you don't know how?"

"I have a fair idea." Ginny grinned nefariously. "It's just a matter of finding positions that are comfortable for the both of us."

"Yeah," Draco muttered. While he'd never wanted to discuss this, he had hoped that Ginny was more knowledgeable on the subject, so he'd have a safe guide. Now he was left with little opportunity to learn anything of the mystery, unless, of course, he approached his brothers-in-law.

"Why are you worrying about stuff like this now? I'm not that fat yet!"

"It just occurred to me yesterday," Draco answered carelessly.

"Yesterday? We were at the Burrow yesterday." Ginny frowned. "Why on earth would such a thought occur to you there?"

"Hermione, Pansy and Angelina," Draco stated, as if it were obvious.

Ginny raised an eyebrow at him. "And why were you thinking such thoughts in relation to them?"

"I wasn't!" Draco replied defensively, missing the mischievous twinkle in his wife's eyes. "I was just wondering how they managed," he finished weakly.

"That's an odd thing to wonder about a woman who's not your wife."

"I didn't mean to! The thought just popped in there and wouldn't leave."

She couldn't hold her amusement any longer and burst out laughing. "I'm sure we'll sort it out when the time comes, or you could ask Bill or Charlie or even Percy for advice."

"Never! There is no way I'm raising this subject with them. I'd never hear the end of it."

"It was just a suggestion." Ginny giggled at his mortified expression. She knew if there was any information to be gathered, it would be her who would be asking the questions of more knowledgeable family members.

"I think I'll have a shower," Draco ground out suddenly, slipping to the side of the bed and swinging his feet out.

Her amusement followed him all the way to the bathroom. He couldn't quite fathom the ease at which his wife could get him to open up and spill the many deep thoughts stored in his mind. His usual controlled-self abandoned him whenever Ginny and he had a private moment. It was disturbing to a point, but then he thought he might have been even more disturbing if he wasn't capable of relaxing totally in her presence.

The hot water stung his skin, burning it red in patches, but he remained under the spray, still kicking himself for opening his mouth. Most disturbing was the fact that his wife didn't know any better than he did when it came to sex once she grew big. Yesterday's epiphany had been somewhat of a wake up call for him. While he understood, academically at least, that Ginny would grow large, it hadn't really struck home until he'd seen his sisters-in-law. How he'd missed their ever-increasing forms of late was quite beyond him, as he was usually a very observant man. Of course, he'd never paid attention to pregnant women in the past; he'd actually avoided them like the plague just in case one thought to pin their predicament on him and his Gringotts vault. There was only one solution to his current problem: he had to get a grip and deal with his questions. This only left one uncertainty: who could he trust to answer his queries truthfully?

"Are you trying to escape down the drain hole?"

"Ginny, I didn't hear you come in."

"I thought I'd better check on you, because you've been in here for ages."

"Sorry, love, I was enjoying the spray. There's nothing quite like a hot shower."

"I might have to test your theory," Ginny said as she dropped the bathrobe she was wearing off her shoulders, allowing it to slide to the marble floor. She stepped into the shower stall with Draco and immediately began adjusting the water temperature.

"If you're going to do that I'm out of here," Draco whined good-naturedly. "Merlin, witch, you have it cold."

"Not usually, but I just can't stand it too hot at the moment."

Draco placed a kiss on her forehead just before stepping out of the stall. "Enjoy!"

"I will." Ginny beamed at him before closing the door to the shower.

He dried himself quickly and left the bathroom. While he was getting dressed, Draco's stomach reminded him rather loudly that he was yet to take sustenance for the day. Once he was dressed, he summoned a servant and ordered a late breakfast to be sent up for both of them. Ginny emerged from the bathroom just as the servant was setting the small table on the balcony.

"I ordered breakfast, love," Draco called after her as she went into her dressing room.

"So I see. I'll just be a couple of minutes."

"All right."

By the time Ginny joined him, Draco was already around halfway through the Saturday edition of the Daily Prophet. As she sat down, he folded the paper and put it aside.

"Everything looks lovely," Ginny commented happily. "We should really do this more often."

"We definitely should," Draco agreed heartily. "Perhaps we can make it a rule or a tradition that we have breakfast alone at least one day a week."

Ginny laughed. "And how long do you think we'd get away with it before the twins crashed our private breakfast?"

Draco glanced at the French doors leading into their bedchamber. "They're not here yet!"

"Give them time. I'm sure the smell of the fresh croissants is only just drifting into the playroom now." Ginny reached for one of the French pastries and lavished it with butter.

They ate in silence for a while, just enjoying each other's company and the peace that came with having a meal without the children.

"What are your plans for the day?" Draco asked casually, as he reached for his fourth croissant. He was mindful of his comment to Drake earlier, and it seemed like a good idea to have some plans in place before fronting the two demanding five-year-olds.

"I need to check that everything is ready for tonight and pop over to check on Mum."

He'd been afraid of this, yet reluctant to admit it. Yesterday afternoon had obviously had no effect on her belief that she was actually _needed_ at the Burrow. The easy thing to do would be to let her go over there, but he feared if he agreed he'd end up hosting their dinner party alone. Draco schooled his features into a stoical mask. "Why don't you Floo Anya and ask how Molly is today?"

"I need to—" Ginny stopped short as her husband's gaze sharpened.

"Charlie told me you're stepping on everyone's toes over there," Draco said gently.

"I am not."

"Then perhaps you can clarify why you wouldn't allow Anya to pour your mother a cup of tea."

"I—"

Draco smirked. "Yes?"

"She wasn't making it the way Mum likes," Ginny snapped defensively.

"Ginevra," Draco said in a low tone that implied he knew she was simply making excuses for her behavior, and poor ones at that.

"I just want to make sure she's all right."

"A Floo call to Anya will answer that," Draco pointed out.

"What if she needs something?"

Draco couldn't fight the urge to roll his eyes theatrically. "Anya will get her anything she requires."

"But—"

"No buts," Draco interrupted firmly. "Unless Anya needs you over there, you're to leave the woman to what she has to do today. We will make a short visit tomorrow for the sake of entertaining your mother."

The silence between them became oppressive in seconds. His stand had, apparently, not been well received if the color rising in her face was any indication. When her eyes narrowed on him Draco cringed mentally. He needed to head off any reprisal quickly and indisputably before she killed him.

"Ginny," Draco uttered, reaching for her hand, which was snatched away. "Love, you're driving everyone nutters, and you're exhausting yourself. I promised Charlie I'd keep you away today and, as you are well aware, I am a man of my word."

"So, because you make some stupid promise to my brother I can't visit my mother?"

"Yes," Draco affirmed confidently. This was better; she appeared to have gained an understanding of the situation.

Ginny planted her hands on the table and stood up, leaning over the intimate setting to ensure she had his undivided attention. "If you think for a minute that I'm concerned about you keeping your word to any of my brothers you can think again. I _will_ be visiting _my_ mother today, regardless of what your opinion is."

Draco watched his wife stalk off. She had reached the doors of their private sitting room before his brain re-engaged and demanded he rectify this situation. "Ginny, wait."

Although he'd bounded to his feet as the words left his mouth, she had exited the suite before he reached the sitting room. Draco cursed venomously. The last thing he wanted was to argue about this, but he had promised Charlie he would do his best to keep Ginny away for at least one day for the sake of everyone's sanity, as well as her own well-being. Two weeks of running around after Molly had taken its toll on Ginny and she needed to let someone else help before she got sick as well.

He took a deep breath and prepared to do battle, then opened the door. Ginny hadn't quite made it to the end of the corridor.

"Ginny."

He saw her gait falter momentarily, but here was no other sign that she'd heard him call after her. She was going to make him chase her that much was obvious. As he began his pursuit, Draco found it made him feel a bit better to curse Charlie in every language he knew.

"Ginny, love, wait please," Draco pleaded as she neared the staircase.

She stopped, finally, and turned to face him. Her expression was hard, but her eyes were glistening with unshed tears.

"Love, you're not being fair to yourself," Draco started. "Everyone is worried about you. They're saying the more exhausted you get the more pedantic you're becoming about your mother."

Ginny raised an eyebrow at him.

"I've noticed it as well," he admitted. "We all think you need to take a step back for your own good." Draco placed his hands on her shoulders gently. "It's just one day, and you can Floo Anya to see how she is."

"What if—"

"If Anya needs you she'll say so, and then you can go. No one would have a problem with that." Draco sighed heavily. The notion that life shouldn't be this hard crossed his mind. "Ginny, your mother is fine. Charlie and Anya are more than capable of looking after her for one day, and your father is there as well, not to mention Ron."

Ginny closed her eyes and allowed her head to drop onto Draco's chest. "I'm just worried about her," she whispered.

"I know, love," Draco returned softly as his arms wound around her. "But you need to take care of yourself as well. Your whole family is concerned for your well-being."

They stood in silence for while, Ginny sagged against Draco and he stroked her back soothingly. Victory was taunting him, but Draco wasn't foolish enough to claim it just yet. He kissed the top of her head tenderly.

"Are you all right?" Draco asked tentatively.

Ginny nodded against his chest. "Yes."

"It's only one day, love, and that's only if Anya is coping." Draco paused to allow her an opportunity to respond, but Ginny made no effort to acknowledge his comment. "Why don't you Floo Anya now, so we can plan the rest of the day?"

Again Ginny nodded, but she didn't move away from the comfort of his body.

"I'll come with you," Draco offered, gently steering her back to their sitting room.

Once in the sitting room, Draco passed Ginny the crystal bowl filled with silvery Floo powder and encouraged her to move towards the hearth. She seemed reluctant to contact Anya, and it made Draco wonder if something had happened between the two women that Charlie had failed to mention. He was beginning to think he'd have to place the call himself when she finally knelt before the marble setting and took a handful of Floo powder. Now that she was making an effort he didn't want to intrude, so Draco made himself comfortable on the small sofa against the opposite wall and waited.

She talked for what seemed ages and when she emerged from the flames Ginny appeared to be a bit happier.

"Well?"

"Charlie said Mum is fine. She's being a bit difficult, but not so much that Anya can't handle her."

"Good."

"If she gets any worse, I told Charlie to let me know and I'll come right over."

"Of course, love, you are one of the few who can tol—err—handle your mother when she's like that." Draco cleared his throat. "Which leaves us with what we're going to do today."

"I need to make sure everything is ready for tonight."

"All right. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"No, I think everything is organized, so it's just a matter of checking it's all going to plan."

"How about if I keep the twins occupied while you're doing that?"

"That would be good."

"We might take the brooms up for a while," Draco commented. "It would keep the twins out of your way for a bit at least."

"That's fine," Ginny replied a little distractedly.

"Are you really all right, love?"

"Yes, I'm just thinking about what I need to check."

"Well, in that case, I'll get out of your hair. Shall we set a time to meet up later today?"

"Yes, I suppose."

"How about afternoon tea in the gazebo at three?"

"Sounds lovely. I'll make the arrangements."

"That doesn't mean you can't summon me if need be. Just send one of the servants to find me."

"I will," she murmured.

"All right, I can take a hint, I'll leave you to it."

"I'm sorry, Draco, my mind is going about a million miles an hour at the moment."

"Just remember you've got a big night ahead of you, so don't go wearing yourself out with the preparations."

"I'll try not to."

"Good girl." Draco kissed her softly. "I'll see you later."

"Okay."

Draco left the suite, feeling a little uneasy. Their earlier disagreement was still sitting rather uncomfortably on his conscience. He knew it wasn't fair to keep her away from her mother. Even though Molly had been released from hospital, she still had a way to go until she was back to full health, and she still required some care. If anyone had tried the same with him, if his mother was in the same predicament, he knew he'd commit murder just to get to her. Still, the fact remained that Ginny had been running herself ragged and not letting anyone else be of use, which was especially irritating when there were so many people willing to help.

He found the twins in the playroom with Millie, and before too long they were striding out to the grounds with broomsticks in hand. Even Angel was excited about the prospect of spending a few hours in the air today. Then again, that could be because Draco had allowed her to use one of his old broomsticks, so she didn't have to double up with him all the time. When they got to their usual spot, Drake wasted no time mounting his broom and taking to the air with a triumphant yell.

"Angel, I want you to stay fairly low, unless I'm beside you, all right?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"Good girl." The thought of spending the hours at St. Mungo's today simply made his blood run cold. "Mount up and kick off gently."

Angel rolled her eyes. "I do know how."

"All right, let me see then."

The little girl threw her leg over the broomstick and pushed herself off the ground, as if she'd been doing it all her life. Draco looked on proudly. He had no doubt, if Angel applied herself, she could be flying as well as her brother in no time. She had good balance, though that wasn't a huge surprise given she had excellent horsemanship skills, and for as much as she fussed, she didn't really know fear. After watching his children for a few minutes, Draco mounted his own broom and joined them in the air.

Drake wasted no time in showing off his skill with some daredevil dives that had Draco's heart leaping into his throat at times. A warning to be careful floated on Draco's tongue, but he resisted the urge to issue it, because he didn't want to squash his son's self-esteem or halt the progress that he'd made with flying.

"Angel, try this," Drake bellowed just before falling into a steep dive.

"NO! Angel, don't even think about it," Draco responded in a panicked voice. "Drake's had a lot more experience, and he certainly didn't start with such a steep dive."

Angel sat on her broom chewing her bottom lip thoughtfully while she gazed at her brother heading for the ground at breakneck speed.

"Drake, don't encourage your sister to attempt things like that," Draco scolded once his son began ascending again. He was beginning to think that horse riding would have been the better option today.

"She can do it," Drake insisted.

"I've no doubt she could one day, but not today. Your mother has planned a dinner party for this evening and she won't be very happy if she's got to spend the night at the hospital instead of entertaining her friends."

"A dinner party!" Angel squealed. "I'm going to wear my purple dress. No! My blue dress with the sparklies—"

"Angel," Draco interrupted. "This is a dinner party for adults."

"That's all right, I don't mind."

Draco groaned mentally. This was going to be painful, of that he had no doubt. "Angel, you will be in the playroom with Millie and Drake, and then you'll be going to bed at your normal time."

"But—"

"No," Draco said slowly. "It's adults only tonight."

"That's not fair!"

Draco was sure if his daughter had been on the ground her last statement would have been accompanied with a stomped foot and folded arms. As it was, he only had to deal with her pout. "Whether it's fair or not is beside the point, because we make the rules, not you."

"I don't want to spend the night with Millie! It's boring!"

"Too bad," Draco commented dismissively.

"I'm going to talk to Grandfather," Angel informed him as she turned her broomstick around so her back was to her father.

He bit back the urge to tell her to talk to whomever she wanted, because he knew it would sound childish. Ginny had told him before that it was best to ignore her when she was like this, because she was only baiting him for a reaction. Draco looked over to his son, who had watched the discussion from a distance. "Drake, are we going to get some flying done?"

"Yeah!"

"Angel, are you flying or sulking?"

The little strawberry blonde muttered something that her father couldn't quite make out, but she slowly guided her broom over to him. He deduced that she'd chosen to fly.

"Why don't we head out over the lake?" Draco suggested, hoping a change of scenery would lighten his daughter's mood.

"Angel, I'll race you!" Drake challenged.

Rather than warn her about going too fast, Draco let them speed off. He didn't think she would go faster than she felt comfortable handling, and he would be close by to assist her if she found herself in trouble. Drake's whoop of delight let Draco know he'd reached the lake well ahead of his sister. Angel flew on steadily with Draco trailing her. The surface of the lake was lit up with sunlight, and Draco was happy to see that his daughter was taken with the beautiful panorama. Her exclamations of delight rang through the air constantly. Drake once again began diving, this time towards the watery surface, grazing it occasionally and sending a spray of water towards the sky.

After an hour or so over the lake, Draco's backside was beginning to go a little numb. Gone were the days when he could spend countless hours on a broom without worrying about the discomfort it caused his body, unless of course there was a Snitch to chase. He was actually a bit surprised that Angel hadn't started complaining already, but at the moment she looked to be completely taken with gliding through the air and watching her reflection in the lake.

"Come on, you two, it must be well after lunch by now," Draco called loudly.

Although Drake voiced a few token words of protest, he obediently flew towards the house. Angel followed immediately without a word. Draco stayed close to his daughter, even though the exercise was somewhat redundant, as she didn't appear to be game enough to attempt anything outside her abilities.

By the time Draco and Angel landed near the patio, Millie was waiting for them.

"Master would like lunch now?" Millie inquired.

"Yes," Draco answered. "We'll eat lunch and discuss what we're going to do next, but you need to change those pants first, Drake."

The little boy looked down at his legs, which were dripping with water. "Millie can dry me."

The elderly servant looked to Draco for permission and Draco nodded. It would save time and what, after all, was a bit of lake water?

"I have to go and see Grandfather," Angel announced, dropping her broomstick on the servant and flouncing off through the house.

She heard her father make a funny sound, but chose to ignore him for the time being. If he really wanted her, he'd call her back, but right now she had a mission to complete: she had to speak to Grandfather about the dinner party.

It took her several minutes to walk to her grandparents' wing, but very little time to locate the man who, to date, had never failed to deliver anything she desired. A servant had informed her that he was taking tea with Grandmother in the summer parlor. While it wasn't ideal — she'd rather get Grandfather alone — she would forge ahead anyway. There was always the chance that Grandmother might be equally as horrified that her parents had left her out of their plans for the evening.

Angel paused outside the parlor. Tidbits of the conversation being conducted within floated into the corridor. She took a deep breath and schooled her features into a pained expression, before taking a few steps into the room.

"Angelique," Lucius exclaimed delightedly when he spied his granddaughter. His happy expression collapsed into a frown when he saw her unhappy face and he was on his feet, crossing the room to be at her side in seconds. "What is wrong, my darling?"

"Mummy and Daddy are having a dinner party, and I'm not invited."

"Well, I expect they've invited people you would find boring," Lucius suggested.

"They didn't even ask if I might be bored."

"Oh, darling, dinner parties are no place for children," Narcissa offered in a kind voice. "They're terribly formal. Your father used to make a fuss at being left out of such events, but he had far more fun with his nanny."

"But I wanted to dress up! Mummy won't let me dress up any other time." Angel stomped her little foot for emphasis.

"If I might make a suggestion," Lucius started. "We could host a small dinner party this evening, couldn't we, dearest?"

"Yes, of course," Narcissa agreed.

"Splendid." Lucius smiled at Angelique. "I shall see that your invitation is hand delivered this afternoon."

Angel flung her arms around Lucius. "Thank you, Grandfather."

"You're most welcome," Lucius uttered.

"I have to go and start getting ready!" Angel quickly disentangled herself from Lucius' arms.

"You have hours yet," Lucius protested. "Perhaps you could join us for a short while?"

"All right." Angel beamed at her grandfather and allowed him to escort her to the couch where Narcissa was perched.

"Darling, have you had lunch?" Narcissa inquired.

"No. We went flying this morning, and we were just coming in for lunch, but I wanted to come and see you."

"We'll have some lunch brought in for you."

"Thank you, Grandmother." Angel made herself comfortable on the sofa.

Narcissa ordered a servant to bring lunch for Angel, along with some pumpkin juice and another pot of tea.

"Do you know what your parents' plans for this afternoon are?" Lucius asked.

"Daddy said that Mummy is checking on things for tonight, and we're meeting her for afternoon tea in the gazebo."

"What about between now and then?"

Angel shrugged. "We were going to have lunch and discuss what to do next."

"I see." Lucius was certain his son wouldn't move onto their next activity without confirming the whereabouts of his daughter, but he still sought a servant and discreetly instructed it to inform Draco where his daughter was at the moment.

* * *

Rather than wait for Angel to return, Draco herded Drake into the dining room the moment Millie had dried his pants. The little boy started voicing his belief that his stomach thought his throat had been cut the moment his sister had disappeared into the house, so Draco wasn't game enough to suggest they wait for Angel. It wasn't until he started eating that he discovered just how hungry he was himself, not that he should have been surprised, because flying had always been good for his appetite. They ate in virtual silence for a while, the food taking their full attention.

Draco finally put his cutlery across his plate when he deemed he'd had his fill, dabbed at his mouth fussily with his napkin and leaned back in his chair. "I thought we might take the horses out for a ride before we meet Mummy."

"Okay," Drake mumbled through a mouthful of food.

"When you're finished we'll find Angel and head out again, otherwise we'll run out of time."

Drake shoved a large fork full of food into his mouth and nodded his understanding.

A servant popped Apparated next to Draco's chair. "Master, Miss Angel is with Old Master and Old Mistress in their summer parlor."

"Thank you." Draco sighed heavily. "Drake, while you finish eating I'll collect your sister."

"Okay, Daddy."

"If you finish before I get back don't go further than the patio, all right?"

"Okay," Drake mumbled, shoving more food into his mouth.

Draco left his son, still shoveling food into his mouth, and walked directly to his parents' wing. There were days when he thought that Drake might just burst from the amount of food he took in, but Ginny assured him that he simply had a healthy appetite.

All was quiet in the corridor outside the parlor, not that it was unusual, because Angel would have been conducting herself as a proper lady in her grandparents' company, and Lucius had had quite enough time to remedy her sour mood with the promise of the world by now. He stepped into the parlor, immediately spying his daughter, who was sitting smugly between her grandparents. Thoughts of what she might have told them about her 'tortured' existence floated through his mind.

"Ah, Draco, I was about to seek you out," Lucius drawled as he stood up and moved towards his son.

"Whatever for?" Draco inquired, though he could well imagine the type of issue Lucius would want to discuss.

"Angelique was most upset that you won't allow her to attend the dinner party this evening."

"We don't feel it's an appropriate setting for the children."

"I can understand that," Lucius conceded. "You used to get terribly bored whenever your mother insisted you attend such events."

"Then our decision isn't a problem," Draco retorted caustically.

"It wasn't your decision I was questioning," Lucius assured him. "Rather I would like to make a suggestion."

Draco braced himself. "Yes?"

"Angelique told us Millie will be assigned to stay with her and Drake this evening."

"That's right."

"Your mother and I are most willingly to spend the evening with the children."

"We didn't want to intrude, and Millie is more than capable."

"I am aware of the creature's ability, but I was more interested in perhaps stemming Angelique's disappointment."

"Father, she wants to attend the dinner party and that is not going to happen, therefore anything you do won't stem her disappointment."

"We were thinking of hosting our own dinner party," Lucius posed. "Angelique and Drake would be our guests."

"That will really impress Drake," Draco scoffed.

"Darling, it would be an excellent learning experience for him," Narcissa said.

"I don't dispute that, but he's not likely to be cooperative, especially if he's forced into dress robes."

"Perhaps we could make an exception, as it will be just the four of us," Narcissa suggested. "Clean, tidy attire would be acceptable."

"I still want to wear a dinner party dress," Angel interrupted.

"Of course, darling, you can wear whatever you like. We just don't want to force Drake into something he's not comfortable with when it's not important."

"Why do I get the feeling you've already made certain promises to Angel?" Draco hissed at his father.

"I may have suggested—"

"And what if I say no?"

"To be perfectly frank, I can't think of a good reason for you to even think about refusing."

Draco couldn't think of a good reason to not give his blessing to the plan, especially when Ginny was likely to agree with his father's plan wholeheartedly. It was the fact that the plans seem to have been made before they'd even thought to consult him that irked him the most. Still it wasn't as if he had much choice. "Very well, I'll let Ginny know there's been a change of plan."

"Splendid."

"Angel, Drake and I decided to take the horses out for some exercise," Draco informed his daughter. "Are you coming?"

"Oh yes! We haven't been riding forever!"

"That sounds like a lovely way to spend the afternoon," Lucius commented. "Are you in the mood to ride, dearest?"

"It does sound tempting," Narcissa replied wistfully.

"That settles it then," Lucius exclaimed. "We'll meet you at the stables, Draco."

"Fine," Draco ground out. "We're meeting Ginny for afternoon tea, so we won't be out all afternoon."

"Lovely! You know how I abhor being in the saddle too long," Narcissa said approvingly.

"Angel, you'd best come and change," Draco suggested, knowing his daughter wouldn't mount her horse without the correct attire.

"Yes, Daddy." The little girl gave each of her grandparents a small wave and followed her father from the parlor.

* * *

Twenty minutes later Draco was giving Narcissa a leg up onto her mount. Drake was eager to get underway and making constant suggestions of where they might go, which he was trying to field while making certain he didn't boost his mother over her horse. Lucius had taken care of Angel and was standing, holding her horse and his own, near the gate.

Draco mounted his horse and looked around to make certain everyone was ready to leave. "I think we might follow the trail that leads back to the lake."

"That sounds lovely, dear," Narcissa responded approvingly.

"Father, why don't you lead off?" Draco suggested.

Lucius handed Angel her reins, mounted his stallion and led the family out of the yard at a respectable walk. The trail back to the lake brushed the edge of the forest on the vast property. Late blooming flowers that littered the earthy floor were trampled under the horses' hooves and the bees that hovered close to the sweetest of them fled in fear of their tiny lives. The lake and surrounding grounds were tranquil as the horses picked their way slowly through the undergrowth. Apart from the occasional snorts from their mounts, Draco could hear Angel nattering her attentive grandfather's ear off, and his mother doing the same to Drake.

Draco hung at the rear of the riders, content with his own thoughts for the time being. He wondered what Ginny was up to at the moment. Millie had told him she had eaten an early lunch when he'd asked after her during his own meal, which didn't quite make sense to him as they'd had quite a late breakfast this morning. Still, he was new to this pregnancy caper, so he didn't know how often women in Ginny's condition ate. What he did know was that it changed constantly, as did what they wanted to eat.

Before he knew it they'd reached the lake's edge and his mount stopped for a well-earned drink, as it always did when they rode this way. It wasn't something he really had a choice in, because his horse was as stubborn as he was, and if it wanted a drink then it was damned well going to have one.

"What time were you to meet Ginevra, Draco?" Narcissa asked.

"Three o'clock, Mother," Draco answered, keeping his eyes on his horse for any signs of wanting to move on.

"We should start back very soon then, or you'll be late."

"Very well," Draco uttered.

"Perhaps we could go across the grounds for the return leg. Allow the horses to stretch their legs a little?" Lucius suggested.

"With the children and Mother?" Draco queried doubtfully.

"Having your mother with us makes it the perfect time, as she can ride with the children," Lucius countered.

"All right," Draco agreed, forcibly turning his mounts head in the direction of the stables. "Drake and Angel, you are to stay with Grandmother."

"Can't I ride with you, Daddy? I can keep up," Angel said confidently.

"No, we're going to gallop back, so we'll meet you at the stables."

"I can canter."

"I know you can, but you're not ready to gallop yet," Draco said firmly. "You're to walk with Grandmother, understood?"

"Yes."

"Ready, Draco?" Lucius enquired.

Rather than answer, Draco gave his horse a sharp kick in the flanks and started towards the stables in a rush of noise. It was only minutes before he heard his father's stallion gaining on him. The rush of wind in his face and the thunderous noise of hooves racing over the ground made his blood pump fast and thoughts of anything important seem totally insignificant. Eager to beat Lucius, Draco urged his mount on with whispered words of encouragement in his ear. As the stables came into view they were side-by-side, but just before they reached the stable yard Lucius' horse accelerated just a little more and he reached the yard a few feet in front of Draco.

"Better luck next time," Lucius said with the pleased tone of a winner as he reined his horse in and gave it a hearty pat on the neck.

"Good win," Draco muttered.

He knew he should feel exhausted after all he'd done today, but the race back had left him feeling exhilarated. Draco dismounted and guided his horse into the stable, handing the beast over to a servant before returning to the yard to await his children. Angel was the first to canter into the yard, followed by Narcissa and Drake a short distance behind.

"Angel, I thought I told you to walk," Draco said.

"Grandmother said I could canter up to the yard, because I could see you," Angel argued.

"Fine," Draco ground out.

"Darling, there's no harm done," Narcissa intoned melodically. "Angelique has fine skills. She'll be galloping alongside you before you know it."

"I wasn't taking anything away from her skills, Mother. I simply didn't want any unfortunate accidents to ruin this evening."

"And did you restrict Drake's flying in the same manner?"

Draco sighed heavily. He'd walked straight into a trap, and no matter how he answered he was going to come off looking like he was favoring Drake over Angel or that he thought his son's skills were far more advanced than his daughter's. "No, I did not."

Narcissa smiled knowingly at his expression. "Perhaps you should keep in mind that they are both capable of a great deal."

"I'll do that in the future," Draco uttered, not at all happy with himself.

"Thank you, dearest," Narcissa said as Lucius assisted her to dismount.

Draco walked over to Angel and lifted her out of the saddle, and was about to do the same for Drake when the little boy leapt from his mount, landing on his feet some distance away.

"Drake, you've been told before that we don't jump from the horses," Lucius reminded firmly.

"Sorry," Drake mumbled.

"Mate, you need to remember that you could hurt the horse if you keep doing that, particularly as you get bigger," Draco explained.

"Okay, I won't do it again."

"Good. Are you ready to go to afternoon tea?" Draco asked.

Drake nodded enthusiastically. "I'm starving!"

"Can't we _please_ keep riding?" Angel pleaded.

"I think it's best if we all start preparing for this evening," Narcissa answered calmly. "You're going to need a substantial bath to rid yourself of that horrid horse smell."

"Oh, yes!" Angel agreed heartily.

"First we're having afternoon tea with Mummy," Draco stated before his daughter could head off to the house.

"But I _have_ to get ready!"

"You'll have plenty of time after we meet Mummy for afternoon tea," Draco reiterated strongly.

Angel began to pout and her eyes started to well with tears.

"Don't start that either, because the only thing you'll get is wet cheeks," Draco warned.

"Draco," Lucius hissed.

Unable to help himself, Draco rolled his eyes, which sent Drake off into a fit of giggles.

"Lucius, let it be," Narcissa cautioned in a tone that brokered no argument. "The children are having afternoon tea with their mother, and that is final. They've seen little enough of her this week without you interfering."

"I simply don't see the point in forcing the child when she is likely to make everyone miserable with her present attitude," Lucius retorted.

"She's only playing it up, because you're here to fight for what she wants," Draco informed him sharply. "Angel, Drake, we're meeting Mummy in the gazebo, so why don't you two start heading that way?"

"Yes, Daddy," Angel responded despondently.

Drake took off as fast as his feet could carry him, eager to see what was for afternoon tea. Angel dawdled away as slowly as she dared, much to Draco's exasperation. He waited until she was out of earshot before turning back to his father.

"It would be nice if you'd keep your suggestions to yourself for a change," Draco growled.

"I was only trying to save you some grief," Lucius countered.

"If you hadn't opened your mouth she'd have gone to afternoon tea quite happily."

"She's going now and that's all that matters, darling," Narcissa crooned. "Now, why don't you go and join them. I'm sure Ginevra is looking forward to hearing all you've done with the children today."

Draco kissed his mother's cheek. "Thank you. I'll see you this evening."

"Of course, darling."

Without another word, Draco stalked off in the same direction the twins had taken. He knew he should feel a little gratitude towards his mother for stemming the argument that was about to erupt with his father, but there were times when he wished she'd just let them bellow at each other. Perhaps then they would be able to clear the air between them once and for all. As he entered the rose garden he could see Angel lingering beside some of the prettiest pink roses in the entire garden.

"Angel, Mummy is waiting," Draco reminded her.

"Can I pick some flowers for Mummy?"

Draco blinked at his daughter a couple of times. Her sweet voice was not what he expected to hear at this point, given her demeanor when she left the stables. "Yes, all right. Do you want me to help you?"

"No, I can get a servant."

"All right, but come straight to the gazebo when you're finished."

"Okay," Angel answered amiably. "HELP!"

Draco shook his head as a servant appeared at Angel's feet, and she started giving the creature orders. Rather than stand by redundantly while the servant followed its orders, Draco headed off to meet his wife for afternoon tea.

* * *

"Mummy!" Drake charged through the garden and bounced into the gazebo.

"Hello, darling." Ginny gathered her son in her arms. "Have you had fun today?"

"Yep! Daddy took us flying, and then we had lunch, and then we went riding with Grandmother and Grandfather."

"You should be exhausted!"

"Nope." Drake shook his head. "Can we go swimming?"

"Maybe tomorrow," Ginny suggested.

"But why can't we go today?"

"Why can't we go where today?" Draco asked as he mounted the gazebo.

"Swimming," Ginny answered.

"Mate, I'm exhausted," Draco expressed, slumping into a chair for emphasis.

"I'm not," Drake countered.

"Where's Angel?" Ginny asked.

"She decided she wanted to pick some roses," Draco replied casually.

"On her own?"

"No, she's just standing back and pointing at the blooms she wants. A servant is doing the picking and removing the thorns."

"That's all right then."

"What have you been up to today?" Draco asked.

"I think everything is ready to go for tonight. I've chosen my gown and decided how I'm going to wear my hair," Ginny replied.

Draco leaned over to Drake and whispered rather loudly, "You know that's going to change another dozen times before our guests arrive."

Drake sniggered into his hand.

"No, it won't," Ginny contradicted. "Mostly because I don't have much that fits comfortably at the moment."

"You need to go shopping then," Draco stated. "I'm sure Mother would love to help you pick a new wardrobe."

"There's no point," Ginny said. "I don't wear those types of gowns enough to warrant buying new ones just to have them in my wardrobe."

"We will have several events to attend in the coming months, so it would be an idea to have a few," Draco suggested.

"If need be, I can get something when the occasion arises."

"All right, but I just didn't want you to be stressing out when we do have an event to attend."

"Draco, if I bought something next week it wouldn't fit me next month, so there's little point in stocking up on dresses that I won't get to wear."

"Fine, but the offer is there."

Ginny looked out into the garden. "Look, here comes Angel."

"Best I stop all this chatter about shopping then." Draco winked across the table.

"Mummy, I picked you some roses," Angel exclaimed as she neared the gazebo.

"They're beautiful, darling." Ginny accepted the small bunch of pink roses as Angel passed them over. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Angel sniffed affectedly. "Is that pumpkin juice?"

"Yes, sweetheart. Would you like a glass?"

"Yes, please." The little witch smiled sweetly at her mother.

"Can we eat now?" Drake asked hopefully.

"Eat up, mate," Draco answered.

"Tea?" Ginny asked Draco after she'd poured the twins a glass of pumpkin juice each.

"Please," Draco replied, reaching for the plate of pastries.

"Drake said your parents took them horse riding," Ginny commented as she poured the tea.

"They decided to join us," Draco clarified.

"Oh, I see."

"That reminds me, there's been a small change of plans for this evening."

Ginny's eyes opened wide and she stared at her husband questioningly. "What?"

"Nothing to do with us exactly," Draco said hurriedly. "My parents have decided to host a small dinner party this evening with the children as their guests."

"How did this come about?"

"Someone was a bit miffed about not being invited, and took her complaint to a soft touch, who, of course, caved under the threat of tears and offered to host a special dinner party."

A smile tugged at Ginny's lips and she shook her head. "He'd be mortified if he knew how easily _someone_ can manipulate him."

"He'd never admit to it," Draco claimed.

"Probably not," Ginny agreed.

"Who are you talking about?" Angel inquired with a frown.

"No one you know," Draco answered abruptly. The last thing he needed was for his daughter to tell his father that he thought he was a pushover; the vehement denials would grow boring very quickly.

"Did you have fun today, darling?" Ginny asked, effectively changing the subject.

"Oh yes, we went flying, and I'm getting really good. Daddy said so! Then I had lunch with Grandmother and Grandfather, and then we all went riding."

Ginny looked at Draco. "You had lunch with your parents?"

"No, Angel had lunch with my parents. Drake and I ate together."

"Well, it sounds like you had a wonderful day with Daddy," Ginny exclaimed.

"Now I have to get ready for the dinner party tonight," Angel informed her mother.

"You have a little time yet," Ginny replied lightly.

"Grandmother said she was going to start getting ready now." Angel nodded emphatically.

"I'm sure your grandmother will take some time to have a cup of tea before she starts preparing for this evening," Ginny countered. "And you should have a decent amount of afternoon tea, because you'll be eating dinner at a later time than usual this evening."

"You wouldn't want you stomach to be growling when you arrive at your dinner party, would you?" Draco asked.

Angel's eyes almost popped out of her head. "That would be rude!"

"Yes, it would, so eat up now and it won't happen."

A smile passed between Draco and Ginny, over the heads of their children, as Angel reached for the plate of small sandwiches on the table. Between them they were beginning to work out a rhythm to get the twins to do what they wanted them to do. Sometimes Ginny's direct method worked, and at other times Draco's subtle manipulation was best put to use.

After the twins had devoured everything that was on offer, including an entire jug of pumpkin juice, Drake decided he was going to run around the rose beds and burn off a little more energy. It didn't take long for Angel to grow bored with sitting still and join him.

"They're going to be exhausted tonight," Ginny commented.

Draco chuckled. "I can just see Mother's face now when they fall asleep in their soup."

"At least they won't be a problem to get to bed."

"Do we keep them moving or let them rest?" Draco asked.

"Keep them moving. If they sleep now, they'll sleep through dinner and then be up until all hours."

"Okay. Do we have a plan of action then?"

"If we let them keep running around out here for a while, then send them up for baths that should take them through to when we get to hand them over to your parents."

"And if it doesn't work?"

Ginny grinned wickedly across the table. "Sugar!"

"I don't know if I have the energy for that," Draco warned. The thought of the twins hyped up on sugar after such a busy day was enough to give him nightmares.

"It won't come to that," Ginny promised. "After all, it's just after four o'clock now."

"Should we start thinking about heading inside? We have to get ourselves ready as well."

"Yes, I suppose we should."

Millie suddenly appeared next to Ginny holding two scrolls of parchment. "Mistress, Millie has these for Miss Angelique and Little Master Drake."

"I'll take them," Ginny instructed, wondering what on earth they could be. "We're about to head inside, so could you see that all this makes it back to the house?"

"As Mistress wishes."

Ginny turned the scrolls over in her hand as Millie began to clear the table. She frowned when she saw the now familiar Malfoy seal embossed into the wax. "What could these be?"

"I don't know," Draco replied absently as he tried to locate the twins. "Drake! Angel!"

Moments later giggling filled the air as the twins raced back to their parents.

"Is there any pumpkin juice left?" Drake asked as he tried to catch his breath.

"We'll get you some when we get inside," Draco offered.

"These came for you." Ginny held the scrolls out to the children.

Angel's eyes lit up with excitement. "What is it?"

"Why don't you open it and see," Ginny suggested.

With meticulous care Angel broke the wax seal and unfurled the parchment. "Daddy, can you read it to me?"

"Give it here." Draco scanned the parchment before he began to read. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth when he recognized his father's even script.

_Angelique Malfoy_

_You are cordially invited_

_To attend a dinner party_

_This evening_

_At Malfoy Manor_

_In the northern wing formal dining room_

"An invitation! I got an invitation!" Angel squealed as she jumped up and down on the spot.

Drake rolled his eyes and shook his scroll in her face. "So did I."

"Why don't we go inside and start getting ready for the dinner party then?" Draco suggested.

"Do we have to?" Drake whined.

"Yes, because your mother and I need to get ready for our guests as well," Draco answered firmly.

"And you desperately need a bath," Ginny added, wrinkling her nose at the decidedly horsey smell emanating from her son's clothing.

"But I could—"

"No arguments," Draco rejoined. "Now why don't you catch up with your sister?"

Drake muttered a few words under his breath as he stomped off to join Angel, who was already a good distance away.

"We're not going to have to try and get him to wear dress robes, are we?" Ginny inquired hesitantly.

"No, I told Mother he would be dressed appropriately, but dress robes were not going to be considered."

Ginny breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness."

"I didn't think you'd want to fight that battle tonight."

"The battle to get him into the bath is going to be quite enough for one night," Ginny said as they headed inside to prepare for the evening.

* * *

"Ginny, I'll meet you downstairs, just in case we get some early arrivals," Draco called as he crossed their bedchamber.

"All right. Are the twins with your parents?"

"Drake escorted Angel to their dinner party a short while ago," Draco replied. "I had Millie follow them at a distance to make sure they made it without incident."

"Okay. I won't be long."

"Good," he muttered to himself as he left their suite.

The parlor that Ginny had chosen to greet their guests in was close to their formal dining room. Draco thought she must have consulted with his mother, because everything looked perfectly set up for a night of entertaining. A fully stocked sidebar had been discreetly positioned in the corner and the house elves who would be serving this evening were already in position.

He had to admit that he was impressed with what he could see so far. Not that it mattered, because this was her dinner party and she would be the only one to gauge its success. The sound of a throat being clearly lightly from the doorway garnered his attention.

Draco turned and took in the vision that was his wife. "You look amazing, Ginny."

She spun on the spot to give her husband a full view of her gown for the evening. A small grin tugged at her lips when she heard him hiss in appreciation. The dress she'd chosen for the night was a simple strapless gown in emerald green. A bow on her right hip gave the impression that the fabric of the bodice had been gathered to that point, giving the otherwise plain design a little definition. The skirt hung in a basic a-line and her slightly bulging tummy could only be just made out under the heavy silk.

"Enchanting," Draco whispered as he gathered her in his arms. "You know we could tell the servants to send everyone home."

"And waste this dress? Besides I'd never hear the end of it if we did that."

"From whom?"

"Ron."

"He's coming?"

"Of course he is. This dinner party is for our wedding attendants and their partners. Ron is engaged to Pansy."

It wasn't anything he didn't know, but he hadn't really given much thought to the entire guest list. "Who else did you invite?"

"Harry and Hermione, Blaise and Katarina, and Greg and Natasha," Ginny counted off.

"It should be a good night."

"I hope so."

"Are you nervous?"

"Just a little," Ginny admitted. "This is the first time I've done any of this."

"Well, if it helps… So far, I can see you've done a sterling job."

"I have?"

"You have." Draco carefully kissed her forehead, so as not to disturb her perfect makeup. "Did you speak to Mother?"

"She gave me some hints."

"I'm glad you thought to go to her for advice. She really is an expert at this type of thing."

"I think she was itching to take over the arrangements."

"I wouldn't doubt it." Draco smirked. "She'll have a dinner party very soon, just you watch."

"Malfoy!"

Draco's head snapped up to the doorway. "Zabini, good to see you."

"We're not interrupting anything are we?" Blaise smirked nefariously at his friend. "We could come back later if you need fifteen minutes or so."

"If you're only offering fifteen minutes I'd best put my initial plans on the backburner for now," Draco retorted as he pumped his friend's hand.

"Oh, Draco," Ginny exclaimed, slapping his arm playfully. "Keep it clean."

"Ginny, lovely to see you again," Blaise said with a charming smile as he lifted her hand to place a kiss on it.

"I'm so happy you could make it tonight," Ginny responded warmly. "Katarina, you're looking so well."

The women exchanged kisses and embraces.

"Thank you. So are you. You're starting to show!" Katarina gently ran her hand over Ginny's belly.

"I see you are as well," Ginny observed.

"I feel so uncomfortable at the moment. Merlin only knows what I'm going to be like in another couple of months."

"You should try carrying twins." Ginny laughed as she led the other woman across the room to the sofa.

"She's been dying to catch up with Ginny and Pansy," Blaise whispered to Draco.

Draco shot a curious look at his old friend. "Oh?"

"Yeah, she wants someone to talk babies with."

"Oh god, I get enough of that when Ginny gets together with her sisters-in-law," Draco groaned. "Drink?"

"You know I can't say no." Blaise winked.

"I didn't think you would." Draco grinned. "Firewhisky?"

"Perfect."

Before Draco could summon a servant one appeared at his feet balancing a tray of pre-poured drinks. He passed one to Blaise and had only enough time to pick his own drink up when Pansy, Ron, Harry and Hermione arrived. Draco watched as the four new arrivals greeted Ginny with kisses and hugs.

"What's this? Are you starting without us, Malfoy?" Harry said as he reached to shake Draco's hand.

Draco looked ruefully at the tumbler in his hand and replaced it on the tray. "I was trying to. Firewhisky?"

"Love one." Harry grinned broadly.

"Hello, Draco," Hermione expressed lightly.

"Hermione, you look lovely this evening," Draco responded in a show of excellent manners.

"Thank you. Where are the twins?"

"They're with my parents, but I have no doubt that they'll convince Father to let them visit us before bedtime," Draco explained.

"I hope they do," Harry said enthusiastically.

"Come on, you two, move along," Ron demanded good-naturedly. "I can't reach the drinks from here."

"Ronald," Pansy warned. "We talked about this, didn't we?"

"Yes, dear. This is a _dinner_ party, not a _party_, and I should only have a drink or two to be sociable."

"Good to see you remembered. Now let's see if you can put it into practice."

"Leave him alone, Pansy," Draco insisted. "If he gets done, then we all get to have a good laugh."

"That's all very well and good, but I'm the one who gets to try and drag him home, and do you know how impossible that is?"

"I'll help you if need be," Draco assured her. "Have a drink, Weasley."

"Don't mind if I do." Ron accepted the tumbler with a cheeky grin

"Stop looking at him like that, Pansy," Draco ordered. "You'll turn the man to stone."

"Thanks, Malfoy." Ron slapped Draco on the shoulder. "Oh, yeah, Charlie said to thank you _ever_ so much for keeping Ginny at home today."

Draco frowned. He thought he heard just a hint of sarcasm in his brother-in-law's tone. "She did stay home," he ventured cautiously.

Ron shook his head slowly to indicate that Draco was wrong.

"Bloody hell," Draco cursed. "I suppose Charlie's ready to flay me?"

"Nah, he said he'd just toss you straight to his dragons. They like to roast you up, so your skin goes all crispy, before eating you."

Draco glanced over to his wife, who was a picture of innocence as she greeted Greg and Natasha at the door. "She promised, and she didn't say a thing."

"Yeah, and you were out of the way for long enough, so she could duck across to the Burrow unnoticed."

"The woman should have been a Slytherin," Draco muttered mostly to himself.

"I'd agree, except for the fact that Mum would have had a coronary."

Draco shook his head and sighed heavily. "Is everything all right over there? She didn't upset Anya too much, did she?"

"Nah, Charlie stepped in and Bill was there at the time as well." Ron chuckled at the memory. "Besides, it's not like Anya and Ginny have any trouble expressing how they feel."

"There's no permanent damage, is there?"

"I don't think so, and if there is, they'll get over it," Ron assured him.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, the girls have all tangled wands at some point, but they get over it fairly quickly," Ron guaranteed.

"All right," Draco said with a heavy sigh. He knew he'd have to bring the subject up with Ginny at some point, but now wasn't an appropriate moment. "I'll have a chat with her tomorrow morning."

"You don't have to," Ron said. "The girls can work things out for themselves."

"Perhaps, but she told me she wasn't going over there, and she still hasn't told me she did, yet she's had the opportunity."

Ron held his hands up in surrender. "I'm staying out of that one."

"Malfoy." Greg Goyle barged into the private conversation and pumped his old friend's hand furiously.

"Goyle, good to see," Draco intoned happily.

"You remember Natasha?"

"Of course, I never forget a beautiful woman." Draco lifted the witch's hand and placed a chaste kiss on it. "Natasha, thank you for coming tonight."

Someone clearing their throat nearby garnered Draco's attention and when he flicked his eyes towards the sound he wished he hadn't. Ginny had a decidedly dangerous look in her eye. He dropped the other witch's hand instantly and gave his wife a sheepish grin.

"Natasha, Greg, would you like a drink?" Ginny asked, still keeping her eye on her husband.

"Love one," Greg answered.

"A wine would be lovely," Natasha responded.

"Draco, perhaps you could get Natasha's wine?" Ginny suggested.

"Of course. Greg, there's a tray of Firewhisky floating around, so help yourself," Draco said before making his way to the small bar Ginny had set up in the corner.

"If you insist," Greg answered cheekily.

"Natasha, why don't we go and sit down with the rest of the women?" Ginny threaded her arm through the other woman's and began guiding her towards the comfortable chairs.

Greg took a tumbler of Firewhisky from the tray a servant presented him and followed Draco to the bar. "Mate, it's a good thing her eyes aren't capable of magic or you'd have been blasted into a million tiny, little pieces."

"I was being polite and nothing more," Draco retorted defensively.

"Tell that to your wife."

"I will, if she brings the subject up."

"You know she will. Women always bring stuff like that up," Greg reminded him.

"It's nothing I can't handle," Draco said firmly. "Would you like to deliver your girlfriend's wine?"

Greg smirked. "All right, but only because I think your murder would ruin the evening."

Draco watched his friend head in the direction of the women for a few moments. He hoped that Ginny would let his offhanded comment about Natasha go, because he really was only being charming. Of course, she might understand once he explained, but there was a small niggle of doubt in his mind, given that her reaction was most likely based on jealousy.

"Uncle Harry!" Angel squealed above the adult conversations as she ran into the parlor.

"Hello, Princess," Harry exclaimed as he scooped her into his arms. "Don't you look pretty tonight!"

Angel preened as best she could in her godfather's arms. "We're having a dinner party with Grandmother and Grandfather, because Mummy and Daddy wouldn't let us come to this one."

"I see," Harry replied with a knowing smile.

"Ah, just in time for hors d'ouvres," Lucius expressed as he entered the room.

"Angelique, we never run into a room screaming, darling," Narcissa chided gently. "Mr. Potter, how lovely to see you again."

Harry placed Angel on her feet and turned his attention to his goddaughter's grandmother. "Good evening, Mrs. Malfoy."

"Draco darling, I hope you don't mind, but we decided to join you for hors d'ouvres."

"Of course not, Mother," Draco responded tightly, not daring to look in his wife's direction.

"The children wanted to come and say hello to your guests, so it's easier if we simply join you for the time being," Narcissa explained further, noticing her son's uncertainty. "Besides, it's an excellent opportunity for them to practice their social skills."

"It's fine," Draco assured her. "Harry was asking after the children earlier, so we were going to send for them at some point."

"Drake, it would be more gracious to greet everyone before accepting any food," Lucius reminded his young grandson.

"Yes, Grandfather," Drake muttered, replacing the delicious looking treat back on the tray.

Lucius groaned audibly. "Now that you've touched the food, you can't replace it. No one wants to eat something that your hands have been on."

The little wizard rolled his eyes subtly, so as not to earn his grandfather's wrath and took the morsel of food back. He looked at it in his hand for a moment, and then shoved it into his pocket.

"Drake—"

"Father, just leave it," Draco advised.

"He will not learn if we fail to correct his errors," Lucius insisted.

"At least he realized that he couldn't greet people with food in his hand," Draco pointed out smartly.

"Can I go and say hello now, so I can eat it before it gets squashed?" Drake asked impatiently.

"Yes, mate, go and make sure you greet everyone properly," Draco answered, before Lucius could open his mouth.

"You are too lenient with him," Lucius hissed as Drake wandered over to the men.

"And you are too harsh," Draco retorted in a low tone before turning on his heel and returning to the men. The last thing he wanted to tonight was to get into a verbal sparring match with his father.

Draco watched on with pride as his son greeted each of the men by shaking hands and engaging in a little small talk before moving on. Ron seemed particularly surprised at his nephew's behavior and took a few seconds to recover to answer Drake's question regarding his health. As Drake left Ron to move onto Greg, Draco crept up beside his brother-in-law.

"Mother has been tutoring him in etiquette," Draco whispered.

"Yeah, whatever that is," Ron mumbled uncertainly.

"Good manners," Draco clarified.

An obviously disgusted snort escaped Ron.

"Scoff all you like, but my son will know the difference between a soupspoon and a dessertspoon."

"There's a difference?"

"Yes, Weasley, there's a difference."

Ron shrugged. "Never noticed. A spoon is a spoon."

"You must give Mrs. Parkinson a coronary every time you eat with them."

"Don't do that too often," Ron mumbled.

Draco leaned in with a smirk on his face and whispered, "And now you know why."

He didn't need to glance back to know that Ron's face was a picture of indignation, as he walked over to where Angel was having her hand kissed by Blaise.

"Do I have to remind you that that's my daughter you're accosting, Zabini?"

"She's positively charming, Malfoy," Blaise responded enthusiastically as Angel extracted herself and moved on to Greg Goyle. "You should be very proud."

"I am, though I can't take all the credit for her manners." Draco dropped his voice to a whisper and continued, "Mother has been giving her direction and she's proved to be an excellent student."

Blaise raised an eyebrow at his friend in amusement. "I should dare you to say that in earshot of your delightfully dangerous wife."

"You wouldn't!"

"I might, if the evening grows boring," Blaise teased.

Draco eyed his friend warily. "I have killed for less."

"As long as you promise to torture me first I won't complain." Blaise winked playfully.

"You're a sick man." Draco shook his head in mock disgust.

"Not sick... Interesting," Blaise corrected cheekily.

"Daddy, I said hello to everyone now," Drake interrupted.

"Good boy."

"Can I eat something now?"

"Go ahead, but if I were you I'd leave whatever it was you put in your pocket in there, because your grandmother would have a fit if she saw you eating it," Draco advised quietly.

"Okay," Drake whispered in return.

Draco laughed as his son made a beeline for the nearest servant with a tray of food.

"You should have let him eat the one he saved," Blaise said amusedly. "It would have added a bit of excitement to the evening if your mother was to have one of her infamous fits."

"Thanks, but I think we can do without the high-pitched shrieking," Draco replied deprecatingly.

Blaise pouted comically. "I've missed her hysterics."

Draco cleared his throat in an effort to squash his temptation to laugh. "I might see how the women are getting along."

"Yes, run away... Don't worry about me, I'll entertain myself," Blaise called after him.

An amused smile tugged at Draco's lips as he crossed the room. He could always depend on Blaise for a good laugh.

"Darling, this is a simply divine little dinner party," Narcissa exclaimed as Draco approached.

"Ginny did all the work, Mother," Draco explained. "All I did was dress myself and show up on time."

Narcissa sighed. "Just like your father."

"What was that, dearest?" Lucius questioned as he arrived at his wife's side.

"I was just saying how like you Draco is," Narcissa reiterated purposefully.

Lucius made a non-committal sound in the back of his throat.

Undeterred, Narcissa ignored her husband's vague noise and continued, "Don't the girls look positively lovely, dear? They're all blossoming!"

"Quite," Lucius uttered blandly, looking anywhere but at the pregnant women his wife was referring to.

"Am I blossoming, Grandmother," Angel inquired earnestly.

"I should hope not," Lucius snapped.

Angel blinked confusedly at her grandfather.

"Oh, Lucius," Narcissa said with a hint of antipathy, before turning her attention to Angel. "No, darling, but you're the prettiest little girl here."

It was enough to placate the little witch, and a broad smile graced her features as she preened for all present. Compliments flowed, encouraging Angel to continue showing off.

A servant discreetly appeared at Narcissa's elbow and when it Disapparated she cleared her throat gently. "I'm afraid we must leave you to your evening. It seems dinner is about to be served."

The moment Angel heard they were leaving she made her way to her grandfather.

"Angelique, you are supposed to wait for me to collect you," Lucius instructed.

"If I wait Grandmother will get you first," Angel explained matter-of-factly.

As Narcissa rose gracefully, Drake scrambled off the sofa he'd been sharing with his godmother, getting to his feet just in time. He quickly crossed to Narcissa and offered her his arm in a chivalrous fashion.

"Bid everyone a good evening, Drake," Narcissa instructed. "It would be impolite to leave prior to doing that."

"Goodnight, everyone," Drake bellowed, so everyone in the room could hear.

A loud growl from Lucius followed the last strains of Drake's announcement, but it was joined amused sniggers from around the room and that effectively took the sting out of any diatribe he may have been planning to deliver.

"Angelique, perhaps you can show your brother how we should bid everyone a good evening," Lucius suggested.

The little girl quickly moved around the room speaking to small groups of guests, before moving onto the next group, and stopping to kiss her parents and godparents goodnight. Lucius stood by the door with an unmistakably proud expression on his features. When Angel returned to her grandfather, she turned to the guests, curtsied in the general direction of everyone, and then took Lucius' arm, ready for the stroll to the dining room.

"Shall we, dearest?" Lucius asked of Narcissa.

"Yes." Narcissa turned vaguely in the direction of Draco and Ginny's guests. "Have a lovely evening."

Various replies to Narcissa's sentiment echoed softly through the room for a few minutes. Given the number of people speaking at once it would have been a miracle if Narcissa had understood a single word that floated her way, but you wouldn't have known it by her reaction. Ever the perfect hostess, she appeared to receive each comment personally.

"Malfoy, you might have to watch your mother with Angel," Blaise suggested after the elder Malfoys had retreated with the children. "She's turning her into a replica of her."

"Nah, Angel was born that way," Ron corrected.

Harry nodded his agreement. "She's always been the little princess."

"Can you imagine what she's going to be like as a teenager?" Greg posed.

Blaise laughed heartily. "I can just see her now, holding court in the Slytherin Common Room, just like Pansy used to when we were there."

"She might be a Gryffindor," Harry reminded everyone.

"Potter, think about it carefully. Does she seem like the courageous, loyal type or would she be better described as cunning and self-serving?" Draco asked, confident that he knew his daughter well.

"When you put it that way—" Harry trailed off, seemingly not wanting to admit to which Hogwarts house his goddaughter would likely be sorted into.

"You never know, she might turn out just like Ginny," Ron said in an effort to console Harry.

Draco's eyes popped wide open in horror as his mind wandered down a road of thought he'd rather not associate with his daughter. "No," he choked out.

"What's wrong with her turning out like Ginny?" Ron questioned defensively.

"Nothing," Draco replied quickly. "Nothing at all."

"Until she discovers boys," Greg added in a fiendish undertone.

"Don't go there," Draco growled in a low tone.

Blaise patted his friend's blond locks fondly. "He doesn't like to imagine the day he's going to go gray."

"She's a good girl," Harry said firmly. "Angel would never give us a moment of worry! Right, Draco?"

"Yeah," Draco muttered uncertainly. The thought of his baby girl even considering accepting the affections of a boy sent chills through his body and made his stomach knot uncomfortably.

"You'll just have to hope she's nothing like her mother then," Greg interjected with a snort of laughter.

"And just how do you know what her mother was like?" Ron inquired with a hint of malice in his voice.

"I don't really, but when my dorm mate, who happens to be seeing her on the sly, wakes up every day with a grin on his face, after mysteriously spending hours out of the common room the night before—" Greg left the rest of his statement unvoiced, as Ron's face had gone from slightly pink to a shocking purple color.

"We could always tell when Draco got a bit the night before," Blaise continued, ignoring Ron's demeanor. "He was impossibly cheerful the next day. It was sickening really."

An incredulous expression overtook Ron's face and his mouth worked for a few moments without sound. "_Cheerful_? When was _he_ bloody cheerful at school?"

"Those would be the days that I'd— ah— only pick on your red hair and freckles, and leave your family's lack of wealth alone," Draco supplied with a smirk.

Ron took a step towards his brother-in-law. "You—you did that a lot!"

Draco's smirk grew into a nefarious grin, and he quirked his eyebrows at the incensed man in front of him. "Yeah, I know."

All the men, apart from Ron, burst into raucous laughter. He continued to look riled for several minutes as the other wizards took pleasure in his indignation.

Blaise landed a heavy hand on the redhead's back and tried to stifle his humor. "Come on, Weasley, you can't tell us that you lot haven't worked out what was going on at school yet."

"Of course we did," Ron answered tetchily.

His attitude caused a renewed bout of hilarity to travel through the men surrounding him. Ron looked to Harry, expecting to find some support in his best mate, but Harry had been laughing so hard he had tears running down his cheeks and was clutching at his stomach. A small smile began to tug at his lips and eventually he joined the men in their amusement.

"If you lot would like to pull yourselves together, dinner is ready," Ginny announced over the din.

After much clearing of throats and strangled snorts, the men brought themselves under control.

"Did you say dinner was ready?" Ron asked hopefully.

"Yes," Ginny confirmed with a nod.

"Excellent!" Ron exclaimed, rubbing his stomach theatrically.

"Well don't just stand there! Come and collect me," Pansy demanded of her fiancé.

"On my way, love," Ron assured her, draining his tumbler of Firewhisky and placing it on the occasional table behind him.

All the men followed suit quickly, collecting their respective partners, then following Draco and Ginny into the dining room. When everyone was seated, Ginny picked up a small bell and rang it softly. Two house elves appeared, one with a bottle of the finest red wine from the Malfoy cellars and the other with a bottle of non-alcoholic cider.

Draco leaned back in his chair and watched his guests while the servants attended to everyone's glasses. He'd attended many dinner parties — both in his own home and at other's residences — but no dinner party had ever made him feel so good. Everyone was getting along famously and conversations had hardly lagged since the first guests arrived. It appeared that all their friends were having a grand time.

He looked to the opposite end of the table to where his wife was laughing at something Blaise was saying. Katarina and Hermione were chatting constantly; Draco didn't think anyone could get a word in edgewise with those two. Pansy was telling Harry off for taking a generous mouthful of wine before Draco had even touched his. Natasha leapt in to defend Harry good-naturedly. Ron and Greg appeared to be needling each other about something, though Draco wasn't concerned because they both had overly amused grins on their faces.

Draco picked up his knife and tapped the side of his water glass to garner everyone's attention, and then raised his glass. "Firstly, Ginny and I would like to thank everyone for joining us this evening. As you may have noticed we have only invited our wedding attendants and their partners, and we have done this with a purpose: to thank you for all your assistance in the lead up to our wedding and, of course, on the day itself. So, without further ado, I would like to propose a toast." Draco paused while everyone picked up their glasses. "To good friends."

"Good friends," everyone echoed.

"Now can we eat?" Ron asked.

"Yes," Ginny answered, ringing her little bell again.

Ten servants, each carrying a bowl of soup, appeared instantly. Conversations only waned while everyone enjoyed the sumptuous feast Ginny had organized. Compliments about the food flew around the table as each course was served and new delights tempted their taste buds.

"You are the best sister in the whole world," Ron exclaimed as his dessert was placed in front of him. "We're coming to dinner more often."

"We're busy," Draco replied in a deadpan tone.

Ron frowned at the end of the table. "When?"

"When were you planning on coming to dinner again?" Draco asked with what seemed like genuine curiosity.

"Very funny, Malfoy." Ron chuckled.

"He thinks I'm kidding." Draco held his stoical expression for a moment longer before joining Ron in hilarity.

"When we move into our own place we'll have you all over for dinner," Pansy announced.

"Have you found somewhere?" Ginny inquired.

"Not yet." Pansy sighed lightly. "We have a few options, but Ron doesn't—"

"Pansy," Ron growled in warning.

The dark-haired witch rolled her eyes, caught Ginny's attention and mouthed, "I'll tell you later."

Ginny nodded her understanding and returned to her dessert. She knew Ron had been a little more than difficult the past few weeks when the subject of their future living arrangements came up.

Draco waited patiently until the last person had placed their cutlery in the finished position. The thought that the women should concentrate on eating the food in front of them rather than gossiping crossed his mind, as all four women finished their dessert well after the men. "Gentlemen, shall we retire to my—"

"We'll be retiring to the parlor," Ginny interrupted firmly, giving Draco a pointed look. She was well aware of the traditions of dinner parties, and she was determined the women wouldn't be left in the parlor waiting for the men to return from doing whatever it was they did in the sanctuary of a study.

"Love, it's perfectly normal for us to have a little—"

"Well, you're not getting it tonight. You can still have your drinks and whatnot, but us women will be privy to your conversation."

"I've always wondered what they talked about after dinner," Pansy exclaimed with a wicked grin.

"You can keep wondering, because you won't be hearing any of that talk in the parlor," Draco retorted dryly.

Pansy pouted. "Why not?"

"It's inappropriate," Blaise answered.

"What on earth could be so bad that we're not allowed to hear?" Hermione asked.

Ron shrugged. "Buggered if I know."

Draco looked down the table at his wife. He knew her expression well and knew it wasn't worth the trouble of arguing. They would be keeping company with the women all evening, whether they liked it or not. Of course, the parlor was large, so they could always congregate on one side and leave the women on the other. "If the ladies wish us to keep them company this evening, we're more than happy to oblige."

"Good," Ginny responded with a satisfied smile. "Shall we move into the parlor then?"

As Ginny stood up Draco, Greg and Blaise came to their feet automatically. Pansy cleared her throat and looked pointedly at Ron, who returned her look with one of confusion.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Ronald, stand up!" Pansy growled. She turned her sharp gaze to her fiancé's best friend, who had possibly picked the worst time to start sniggering. "Don't you start laughing, Harry, you need to get on your feet too!"

"Perhaps we ought to send them to etiquette lessons with my mother?" Draco suggested with a smirk. "I'm sure she'd be delighted to have a couple of new students."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "I'm positive Drake could teach them a thing or two."

"Lessons would be a waste on those two," Hermione interjected. "They've always been allergic to studying."

"We could stand here all night debating Ron and Harry's lack of education, but I'm dying for a cup of tea and a comfortable chair," Ginny announced. "Shall we?"

Without further delay everyone returned to the parlor. The men took up residence near the French doors again, which were open to allow the warm summer breeze to filter through the room. Draco ensured his guests all had drinks in their hands before turning his mind to the conversations taking place.

Ginny guided the women into the comfortable chairs near the hearth, where a large pot of tea stood ready to be served. She shooed the servant away and set about pouring the tea herself.

"Natasha, would you like a cup of tea or something else?"

"Tea is fine, thank you, Ginny," Natasha responded, glancing wistfully at the decanter of Firewhisky that Draco was expertly pouring from for the men.

"Are you sure? You're quite welcome to have some more wine or even some Firewhisky if you want," Ginny explained.

"Go on," Pansy encouraged.

"Just because we can't, doesn't mean you shouldn't," Katarina insisted.

"All right then, I'd love a Firewhisky," Natasha conceded.

"Firewhisky it is then." Ginny smiled warmly at the other woman. "Draco."

"Yes, love?"

"Natasha would like a Firewhisky."

Draco looked surprised for a fraction of a second before turning to pour another Firewhisky and make his way across to Natasha. "Here you go."

"Thank you." Natasha smiled gently.

"Where's Ron?" Ginny asked.

"He went straight to the bathroom," Pansy informed her.

"Oh, I didn't realize." Ginny laughed. "He usually announces that loudly."

Pansy cringed. "I think I've broken him of that particular habit."

Ginny looked incredulously at her future sister-in-law. "Really? I don't believe it!"

"Well, at least when we're out. At home it's a different thing. It's like he has to tell everyone, so no one else will head in that direction," Pansy admitted.

"One bathroom with a house full of people is a problem, believe me." Ginny giggled, remembering all the times she would find the bathroom occupied at her parents' home.

"Speaking of such, I must make a visit there myself," Hermione declared, pulling herself out of the chair.

The women settled into easy conversation about recent events in the wizarding world. Pansy, Natasha and Katarina were well informed on all the social gossip, and Ginny found herself morbidly fascinated with the rumors they were recounting. She knew of some of the people they were discussing through Narcissa and was sure her mother-in-law would be scandalized at several things the other women were telling her to the point where she would disassociate herself from them.

"Oh, for goodness sakes, can't we come up with something more interesting to talk about than who's shagging whom?" Hermione expressed disgustedly as she sat down.

"You might not think it, but it's important to keep up with this sort of thing in our social circles," Pansy explained.

"I can't see how?" Hermione challenged.

"If you're aware of what's going on with certain people then you're less likely to make a faux pas when interacting with the parties concerned," Pansy clarified patiently.

"Why would you be talking about who they're shagging anyway? Isn't that considered gauche?"

"Of course it is!" Pansy gave the brown-haired witch a surprised look. "If you know who they're shagging, then you can ask after the well-being of the right person, instead of their previous partner."

Hermione rolled her eyes comically. "Well, I'm just glad I don't have to bother with all that rubbish, because I really don't have any desire to know what's going on behind closed doors or in sleazy hotel rooms."

"Believe me, some of it is really disgusting," Pansy assured her. "Did you see Ron when you went to the bathroom?"

"No, I didn't," Hermione answered, looking over to the men to see if she could spot her friend. "Didn't he come back?"

Pansy anxiously scanned the room. "I haven't seen him since we left the dining room."

"Do you want me to send Draco to check on him?" Ginny asked with concern tainting her tone slightly.

"Please," Pansy responded.

"I'm sure he's just fine." Ginny patted her hand before rising out of her chair.

Pansy nodded and smiled unconvincingly.

"Draco, I'm getting a bit worried about Ron. He's been gone for ages," Ginny whispered as she reached his side.

"He'll be right," Draco muttered absently, trying to keep his attention on the conversation the men were having.

"Pansy's concerned as well."

Draco groaned just audibly and turned to face his wife. "Ginny, a bloke has a right to use the lavatory in peace."

"But he's been gone _too_ long, and Hermione didn't see him when she went."

"I'm not going after him."

"Fine, I'll send a servant then."

"If you're that worried, do it, but he's not going to be impressed if a servant suddenly pops up in the bathroom while he's busy."

"Which is why I'd rather you discreetly checked on him," Ginny pointed out.

"Ginny, he'll be all right," Draco assured her.

She rolled her eyes at him and summoned a servant. After giving the creature instructions to locate Ron, Ginny sent one last scathing look in her husband's direction before returning to the other women.

"I've sent a servant to check on him, Pansy," Ginny assured the other woman.

"Thank you. It's not like him to take so long when we're out," Pansy explained. "If we were at home it would be a different matter; he wouldn't emerge until he'd finished the latest edition of whatever magazine he had taken with him."

Hermione laughed lightly. "All the boys are like that."

"I'm forever clearing out Blaise's 'reading material' from our bathroom," Katarina added. "Why is it that the only place men read is the toilet?"

"I couldn't think of anything worse." Ginny screwed her nose up, and then laughed with the other women.

"Could this be our lost man?" Natasha asked as a house elf walked into the room.

A harassed looking Ron followed a house elf into the parlor. He headed straight for Draco. "You need sign posts in the corridors!"

"What?"

"Sign posts! You know, so people don't get lost," Ron blathered. "I need a drink."

Draco bit the side of his mouth to stop himself from giving into the urge to laugh. "You got lost going to the bathroom?"

"Yeah, well there are that many bloody corridors," Ron muttered before empting the tumbler of Firewhisky a servant had just provided him with.

"The bathroom is just down the hall," Draco pointed out slowly. "You don't even need to turn a corner."

"I missed the door."

"And it didn't occur to you to turn around?"

Ron sent his brother-in-law a sour look before diverting his attention to Pansy, who had been hovering at his side.

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I just lost track of how many turns I'd taken," Ron admitted quietly.

"Don't stare." Draco nudged Greg sharply, who was openly gaping at Pansy as she whispered something in Ron's ear, kissed his cheek, and then made her way back to the other women.

"I can't help it," Greg returned in a whisper. "She's… big."

"You really don't want to say that when she's in the same room," Ron warned, catching onto the conversation the moment his fiancée left him.

"Sorry, Weasley," Greg said hurriedly.

Ron chuckled. "No need to apologize, you just pointed out the obvious. It's just not something that's good for your life expectancy if she hears you."

"I'll bet it isn't," Greg mused aloud. "How do you—"

"What?" Ron inquired, when the question hung unfinished.

The large man went beet-red. "Never mind."

"Come on, how do I what?"

"Where's your mind wandering, Greg?" Draco asked, amused at his friend's embarrassment.

"It's none of my business," Greg insisted.

"You started to say something, now finish it," Ron urged.

Greg groaned, but leaned conspiratorially towards the other men. "How do you fuck?"

Ron's eyes popped wide open. It was the last thing he'd expected to hear from the ex-Slytherin. "I—err—"

Draco masked his curiosity with amusement, but he was keen to hear the answer from another man's point of view. "Go on, Ronald, share with us."

"No, she'd kill me," Ron claimed.

"We won't tell," Blaise promised. "And I'd be eternally grateful."

Ron looked at the wizard with mortification clearly written on his face. "Grateful?"

"Yes, grateful. Katarina's hard enough to keep up with now, and I keep wondering what it's going to be like when she gets bigger. I don't want to make a fool of myself," Blaise admitted. "I do have a reputation to protect."

Harry cocked an eyebrow at the man. "With your wife?"

"Keep them happy and they won't want to wander," Blaise stated firmly.

Ron and Harry passed incredulously looks between them. There was no doubt that Slytherins were an entirely different breed to the rest of the wizarding population.

"Are you going to tell us your secrets, or am I going to be forced to risk your life and ask Pansy myself?" Draco asked with a smirk.

"You wouldn't."

"You know I would."

"Fine," Ron ground out. He took a deep breath, stole a glance at the women to make certain they weren't going to wander over and then looked back at the men. All, except Draco, had an eager expression on his face. "It's all about position. You have to adjust your body positions to make sure they're comfortable and you're putting no pressure on their bellies."

"What sort of positions?" Blaise inquired eagerly.

"It's not that hard to imagine what positions wouldn't put any pressure on their fronts, is it?"

"Just curious," Greg griped.

"I don't know why you are. You're not even having a baby," Ron said to Greg. He looked at the other men and rolled his eyes; they were obviously very interested in hearing what he had to say. "Her on top… Doggy style… Standing up… Her bent over something like a chair or a table… Her sitting on the edge of a table…"

"Where did you find all this out?" Draco demanded, forgetting he wasn't supposed to appear interested.

"Bill gave me a few ideas," Ron mumbled. "Charlie added a few more."

"They actually told you all that?" Draco blinked at him disbelievingly.

"Yeah. Pansy said something to Fleur about it not being comfortable and she told Bill, so he threw some advice my way."

"Do you think they've got any other tricks up their sleeves?" Draco asked eagerly.

"How would I know? If you want information, ask them yourself."

"Like I'd come away from that meeting with my body intact," Draco scoffed. "You forget who I'm going to experiment with."

"It's not like we don't know what you get up to; we just don't like to think about it. Besides, your pride isn't a body part," Ron pointed out. "They'll answer any question you have, and they've both been through it enough times to know what they're talking about. There's just one thing though."

"What's that?" Harry inquired.

"You've got to wait for them to stop laughing before you get any sense from them."

"A small price to pay," Draco muttered, mostly to himself.

"You might think so now, but if the twins get wind that you've had a special little chat with them you won't live it down."

"They would have—"

"They did, or at least one of them did, but that doesn't matter. You know what those two are like."

"What about Percy?"

Ron's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Nah, Percy doesn't have sex, his kids are conjured from thin air, and Penelope is a virgin!"

The men erupted into loud laughter, which earned them a few raised eyebrows from the women's side of the room.

"Want to share?" Ginny asked over the din.

Draco took a few deep breaths, mostly out of dire need for air, but also to bring himself under control. "We were just discussing the mating habits of your brother."

Ginny looked at Ron with a horrified expression on her face, and Pansy followed it with a look that promised a painful end to his comfortable life.

"Not me!" Ron blurted defensively. "Percy!"

A frown creased Ginny's smooth forehead. "You were discussing _Percy's_ mating habits?"

"Yeah," Harry confirmed.

"Percy doesn't have sex," Ginny told them matter-of-factly.

The men broke into raucous laughter again.

"It wasn't that funny," Pansy offered.

"I didn't think so either," Hermione agreed.

"Who's Percy?" Natasha inquired curiously.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Ginny responded. "Percy is one of my brothers, and he's a bit prim."

"A bit?" Ron choked out.

"That's an understatement," Harry confirmed, gaining some control of his amusement.

"I have to agree," Draco concurred, wiping tears from his eyes.

"All right," Ginny conceded. "All right, he's more straitlaced than... than... I can't even think of anyone as prudish as him."

"You'll hurt your head if you keep trying," Harry warned, amid gales of renewed laughter.

"Oh, enough! My belly is beginning to hurt," Pansy complained as she struggled to bring herself under control.

A few giggles lingered as the women did their best to stifle their urge to laugh aloud. Hermione was rubbing her belly as well, commiserating with Pansy over the ache that appeared whenever they became too excited. The dark-haired witch stood up and stretched her back for a few moments, trying to rid herself of the nagging ache.

"How pregnant is she, Weasley?" Greg asked quietly, inclining his head in Pansy's direction.

"About twenty-six weeks," Ron answered, looking over at the woman in question with a great deal of pride in his eyes.

"So that's?"

"We've got about fourteen weeks to go," Ron explained.

"That's not long," Blaise mused aloud.

"No, not long at all," Ron agreed. "But Harry's got even less."

"Only by a couple of weeks," Harry reminded him.

"Who's due first out of you and Draco?" Greg asked Blaise.

"I'm not sure. Katarina's just over twenty-one weeks," Blaise answered, looking to Draco for further information.

"Err, I think Ginny's a bit further," Draco muttered uncertainly.

Ron rolled his eyes at his brother-in-law. "You know she's going to kill you for not remembering."

"It's not that I don't know," Draco snapped. "I simply don't recall the exact number of weeks at the moment."

Harry sniggered. "Ginny, how far gone are you?"

"Twenty-two weeks tomorrow," Ginny responded.

"Thanks!" Harry grinned wickedly, then added, "Draco couldn't remember."

Ginny cocked an eyebrow at her old friend. "Tell me, Harry, do you remember exactly how many weeks Hermione is?"

"Twenty-eight weeks," Harry retorted confidently.

"Don't worry about it, Draco, the only reason Harry remembers is because we went for a check up this week," Hermione supplied from the other side of the room.

"I knew before then," Harry replied defensively.

"At least we've got more time than some," Draco commented. "Angelina looked ready to burst last weekend."

Hermione looked at the blond incredulously. "She's still got seven weeks to go."

Draco's eyes just about left his head. "Seven weeks? She'll explode before then!"

He didn't think the notion was so funny, but apparently the women didn't share his view, as they burst into uncontrollable laughter. Before long Ron and Harry joined them, much to Draco's horror. The idea that he'd said something foolish was evident without those two joining the women in his humiliation.

"Oh, Ginny, you really need to educate him," Hermione gasped out.

Pansy took a few deep breaths. "I don't know, I think his innocence is adorable."

"At least he's entertaining," Katarina added.

_Adorable?_ Draco snarled under his breath and turned away from the overly amused women. Perhaps if he ignored them they'd quiet down and leave him alone.

"Don't feel bad, mate." Ron slapped him on the shoulder. "By the time you two have another couple you'll be an expert."

"Oh no," Draco answered immediately. "We're stopping after this one."

An expression of genuine surprise took up residence on Ron's face. "Really?"

"Yes. I think three is more than enough."

"What happened to the Quidditch team you were planning?" Blaise asked.

"When was _I_ ever planning to sire a Quidditch team?"

"Before your wedding. Don't you remember the conversation we had about Ginny's breeding power?" Blaise paused to see if Draco was willing to acknowledge that he recalled the conversation. "You told me you didn't care how many kids you had, just as long as she was happy."

"That was before," Draco growled. "I changed my mind."

"Before? Before what?" Greg inquired with a deep frown.

"Before the kids moved in with him," Ron supplied wisely with a knowing grin.

"Look, I just don't think it's necessary to have any more children. Three, I'm sure you will all agree, is more than enough. I have an heir to carry on the family name already, so there's no point in having more." Draco glanced over to where his wife was sitting, chatting with the women. "I would like to have some time with my wife on a personal level without having to worry about children, and I'd like to do that before we're too old to enjoy it."

"Never thought I'd see the day when this place felt crowded," Greg murmured as he looked around the room. "Is privacy getting to be a bit of an issue?"

"Have any of you any idea what it's like to have a child walk in on you when you're half way through?" Draco blurted uncharacteristically.

"As a matter of fact... Yes!" Ron answered strongly. "And it's usually _your_ son who does the disturbing."

"You're kidding?" Blaise exclaimed.

"Unfortunately, not," Draco expressed dourly.

"That kid has some sort of perverted sixth sense," Ron muttered discontentedly.

"Not to mention a big mouth," Harry added with a smirk.

"He tells?"

"Everyone he possibly can," Ron growled.

"Regardless of my son's habits, I don't want anymore children," Draco explained firmly in an effort to move the conversation back on topic. After all, talking about Drake's uncanny knack of walking in on people, namely him, led to embarrassing comments.

"Does Ginny agree?" Ron asked.

Draco gazed at his brother-in-law and tried to gauge what the man's thoughts were on the matter. It wasn't something that was terribly hard to do, particularly as whatever Ron was feeling at any given moment was clearly displayed on his face. He decided a version of the truth was probably his best option. "She's undecided."

"That's an interesting way of putting it," Harry commented perceptively.

"I need a little time to convince her that more children would just complicate our lives unnecessarily."

Ron snorted. "Somehow, I don't think she's going to see things your way."

"My money's on Ginny having as many as she wants," Harry stated, clearly amused by the idea.

"Best you start designing that Quidditch team uniform, mate," Blaise said with a smirk.

"Before you lot start picking colors and mascots, I feel it pertinent to remind you that it takes two to create a new life."

"As if you'd deny her," Greg scoffed.

Ron snickered. "I'd like to see him try."

"Did we ever find the body of the last person to tell her 'no'?" Harry asked cheekily.

Blaise slung an arm around Draco's shoulders. "Let's face it, mate, if she wants more, you'll have more."

"Are you insinuating that I've gone soft?" Draco eyed his old friend playfully.

"Not at all." Blaise chuckled to himself. "You've always been soft."

"Most especially where the ladies are concerned," Greg added, struggling to keep a straight face.

Draco looked affronted. "I resent any implication that I'm less than firm in my convictions."

"You can resent it all you like, but it doesn't change the fact," Blaise insisted.

Draco muttered discontentedly under his breath. He couldn't believe his friends had such a view of him. Didn't they know he was the man of house? That he wore the pants?

"Don't worry, mate, you can always tell everyone you changed your mind," Greg suggested.

"Malfoys don't change their minds," Draco ground out.

"We won't tell anyone, will we?" Harry choked out amid a snort of laughter.

"Nah, your secret is safe with us," Ron confirmed in a tone that told Draco the whole wizarding world would learn of his change of heart, if it happened.

Laughter, once again, flooded the room as three of the four men gave into their amusement.

"What's so funny?" Katarina asked from the women's side of the room.

"We were just discussing how many kids Draco wants," Ron answered humorously.

Ginny's gaze sharpened instantly, and she directed a look at her brother that very clearly told him not to go there. The men sobered quickly under her scrutiny as her eyes wandered to each of them. She finally stopped on her husband, her eyes narrowed to slits holding a promise that he had not heard the last on this particular subject.

Try as he might, Draco couldn't help but meet Ginny's gaze. Under the cutting glare of his wife, he began to feel a bit like a house elf punishing himself for some misdemeanor. It wasn't a feeling that sat well with him, but he couldn't drag his eyes away. The noise of some one purposely clearing their throat right next to his ear finally enabled him to avert his eyes.

"Here, you need a stiff drink," Blaise whispered, holding a tumbler right under Draco's nose.

All of a sudden the other men gathered around him, and he could no longer see Ginny, no matter how hard he tried.

"Don't," Ron instructed, after Draco purposely tried to look around him. "She'll turn you to stone."

"I gather you two have had discussions about the number of children you're going to have," Harry said cautiously.

"Yeah," Draco muttered uncertainly, not really sure why he was answering such a personal question.

"Sorry," Ron mumbled. "I didn't mean to get you into trouble."

Draco blinked at his brother-in-law in confusion. Did the man just apologize? Not only that, he actually looked forlorn. "Err— It's all right," he uttered haltingly.

"Maybe I should speak to her or something," Ron offered, though his tone told everyone who could hear him that he'd rather be hit with the Cruciatus Curse than face his sister at the moment.

The offer was tempting for about half a second, then Draco's good sense kicked in. "Thanks, but it's probably better if I handle it myself."

"If you're sure," Ron countered with a hint of relief in his tone.

"Positive," Draco assured him. The last thing Draco needed was for Ron to make matters worse, and he had the distinct feeling, if he had accepted the offer, all hell would have broken loose.

"She won't make an issue of this now, will she?" Blaise whispered.

"No, of course not." Even to his own ears he didn't sound all that confident. There was every chance that Ginny would appear right in front of him, at any given second, frothing at the mouth and demanding an explanation.

"I'm going to have to blindfold you if you keep trying to look at her," Ron warned as Draco's eyes flicked over to the women.

"I can't help it," Draco snarled.

"Well, best you bloody well do help it, because if you keep looking at her you're going to cop it for sure," Ron explained harshly.

"Who made you an expert?" Draco snapped.

Ron rolled his eyes in an exaggerated manner. "Apart from the fact that I lived with her for over twenty-three years, she's just like Mum. You never, ever make eye contact when they're in mood like that, because they will rip you apart before you even know what's happening."

"At least it'd be over then," Draco mumbled mostly to himself.

"Believe me, you don't want that to happen when there are witnesses," Ron advised seriously. "You'd never live it down."

"Not to mention that you'd never see your friends again," Harry added.

"And why would that be?" Blaise asked.

"Yeah, we wouldn't desert Draco," Greg supplied.

"Have you ever seen Ginny in full-flight?"

"No," the men answered in unison.

"Trust me, you'd both be too terrified to return," Ron answered.

"She can't be that bad," Blaise commented.

"She's worse," Draco admitted before he could stop himself.

"Worse than what?" Blaise pressed.

"Picture you worst nightmare." Draco paused to give the men a chance to visualize their personal horror. "Now triple it."

"Maybe we should call it a night," Greg suggested tentatively.

"No!" Draco looked around at his friends in dismay. "Stay. Have another drink!"

Ron's face morphed into one of great amusement. "You're not going to try and dull the pain before it hits you, are you?"

A clear answer in the affirmative was seen in Draco's face, and the men burst into laughter. It was one way of dealing with his impending doom, and none of the men saw reason to fault his logic. Over the next hour or so they all consumed far more alcohol than any had planned to at such a gathering. When Firewhisky grew boring, Draco produced a bottle of well-aged cognac, and the men stood around nursing snifters that Draco insisted on topping off frequently. Their conversations grew more bizarre with their level of intoxication, as did their volume. It wasn't until Draco and Harry started singing their old school song, with their arms wrapped around each other's shoulders, that the women saw fit to interfere.

"Harry," Hermione interrupted, cringing at the sound they were making. "I think it's time we said goodnight."

"No, you don't have to go yet!" Draco exclaimed as he staggered away from Harry. "Stay and have another drink."

"I'm not drinking, Draco," Hermione reminded him.

"Harry is," Draco replied earnestly.

"Yes, well... I think Harry's had more than his fair share this evening."

While Hermione was trying to convince Draco it was time for them to leave, the other women were surreptitiously gathering their own partners and moving them in the direction of the doorway.

"Where is everyone going?" Draco looked around in surprise.

"Sorry, mate, I've been given my marching orders," Ron replied dolefully.

"Draco, come and say goodnight to our guests," Ginny encouraged firmly.

"Women spoil all our fun," Draco mumbled under his breath as he staggered into the entrance hall.

Pansy rolled her eyes at her old friend, as she threw her traveling cloak around her shoulders, and then kissed his cheek lightly. "You behave yourself and no throwing a tantrum, because your friends couldn't stay and play."

"Would I do that?" Draco asked incredulously.

"Ask yourself why I would feel the need to mention it if you didn't," Pansy countered with a knowing smile. "Ginny, it was a lovely evening. Thank you for having us."

"You're welcome. Are you going to be able to get Ron home on your own?"

"I've done it a couple of times," Pansy assured her. "He's usually no problem once we get away from the other men."

"Good." Ginny smiled understandingly. "Draco, are you going to say good night to Ron?"

"I'm getting to it," Draco grumbled.

The two men shook hands and slapped each other on the shoulder heartily, while passing a few words between themselves that no one else could decipher.

"Ronald, thank your sister for having us," Pansy prompted when the two men parted.

"Thank you for having us," Ron repeated and gave Ginny a clumsy kiss.

"Goodnight, Ron," Ginny said, wiping the slobber from her cheek.

Pansy ushered her fiancé towards the front doors before he could start up a nonsensical conversation with whoever would listen to him just to delay the inevitable.

"Natasha, thank you so much for coming," Ginny said. "Are you going to be right to get home with Greg?"

"Thank you for inviting us." Natasha smiled warmly. "Don't worry about us, we've done this a couple of times before."

"I'd hate for you to Splinch yourself."

"It hasn't happened yet," the witch insisted.

"All right, but if anything happens, please don't hesitate to Floo me."

"I will."

The women embraced briefly, then waited for the men to finish dribbling whatever nonsense they were filling each other's ears with.

Draco stumbled over to Natasha and took both her hands in his. "Greg is a very lucky man," he slurred.

"Thank you," Natasha responded uncomfortably.

"I mean it, he's very, very lucky to have a good woman like you."

Ginny cleared throat purposely. "Draco, leave Natasha alone."

"I was just—"

"Yes, dear, we all know what you were just doing," Ginny responded sardonically. "You're making her feel uncomfortable, so leave her alone."

"I wouldn't do that! Am I making you uncomfortable, Natasha?" Draco asked with genuine alarm.

"Err—I—"

Ginny stepped forward and gently guided her husband away from Natasha.

"A bloke tries to pay someone a compliment and he gets in trouble for it," Draco muttered just loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Why don't you save your compliments for when you're sober," Ginny suggested with a hint of humor.

"I think we'll go now," Natasha whispered to Ginny.

"Be careful going home," Ginny replied. "Bye, Greg."

"Mrs. Malfoy, it was a pleasure to be in your company this evening," Greg said with a deep bow.

"Oh for goodness sakes." Natasha gave Greg's arm a sharp tug. "Come on, before you do something you'll regret, but won't remember."

"Never!" Greg raised his arm in farewell as Natasha all but dragged him out the door.

"If I don't leave right now I'm going to have to use the bathroom again," Hermione stated. "Harry, say goodbye quickly, because I'm not joking."

"Why don't you go before we leave?"

"Because it will take me as long to walk to the bathroom from here as what it will to get home, if you don't dilly dally." Hermione turned her attention to Ginny. "Thank you for a wonderful evening."

"You're welcome. Thank you for coming."

"We'll have you over for dinner really soon," Hermione promised.

"I'm looking forward to it," Ginny replied.

"See you later, Ginny," Harry mumbled.

"See you, Harry."

"Draco, thanks for a good night," Harry said as he shook the blond's hand.

"It was a good night," Draco confirmed.

"Thanks for having us, Draco," Hermione interrupted. "Harry, are you ready to go?"

"Yeah, I'm ready."

"Well, come on then," Hermione insisted.

Ginny turned to the only guests left. She was surprised to find Blaise standing so close to her. Although, she tried not to cringe as Blaise leaned even closer it was impossible not to, not that he seemed to notice in his drunken state anyway.

"It wasn't Draco's fault. We were all teasing him, so be nice," Blaise slurred.

Ginny patted his arm awkwardly, while wishing him away and wondering what on earth he was on about. "All right."

"He didn't even want to talk about it, honestly."

"I believe you."

"So you won't turn him out of his bed?"

"No, I won't."

"Good, because I'd hate to think we got him in trouble or anything."

"You haven't."

"Okay, because you know—" Blaise leaned closer still in a conspiratorial manner. "—I think, deep down, he really wants more kids."

Ginny smiled as she took a step backwards to place some distance between them. At least she knew what he was on about now. "It's all right. It's something Draco and I have to work out, but I think it would be better to leave it until he's sober, don't you?"

"Oh yeah, good idea! He's got a dreadful memory when he's drunk," Blaise advised austerely.

A quick bite of the side of her mouth quelled the urge to laugh at how earnest the dark-haired wizard was trying to be while he was almost fall-down drunk. "He does have a horrid memory," she agreed.

"Blaise, are you going to say goodnight, or are you going to keep chatting until poor Ginny passes out from the fumes you're breathing on her?" Katarina inquired.

"I'll have you know, we had some serious business to discuss," Blaise informed his wife.

"I think you finished, didn't you?" Katarina suggested.

Blaise picked up Ginny's hand, albeit a little roughly, and placed a sloppy kiss on it. "Thank you for an enchanting evening, Mrs. Malfoy."

It took all her strength not to snatch her hand away and wipe it furiously on her gown. "You're welcome, Blaise. We hope you can come again some time."

"We'd love to, wouldn't we, Kat?"

"Absolutely." Katarina smiled apologetically at Ginny. "Now, should we go and leave these good people in peace?"

"Can't yet! I haven't said goodbye to my mate," Blaise declared.

"Looks like we'll be here for another half an hour," Katarina whispered to Ginny as their husbands embraced each other heartily. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't worry about it," Ginny began to giggle as the two men declared their undying love for each other. "Draco's just as bad, if not worse."

"Should we break them up?"

"No, we'd never hear the end of it, and besides it's rather funny." Ginny laughed aloud. "Who'd have thought those two very proper gentlemen could express themselves so—so— sloppily!"

"Oh for Merlin's sake," Lucius growled as he descended the staircase. "How much have they had to drink?"

"More than their fair share," Ginny admitted.

"Did it not occur to you to at least encourage a little decorum?" Lucius snapped.

Ginny rolled her eyes melodramatically. "They're not hurting anyone. Well, except their own egos when we relay this lovely scene to them."

"That is hardly the point." Lucius stared disgustedly at his heir, who appeared to be preparing to plant a sloppy kiss on his mate's cheek. "Their behavior is undignified."

"Lucius, there's no one around to witness their behavior," Ginny reminded him in an even voice. "Draco will feel the humiliation of his behavior this evening, but it will be when I'm ready to make him suffer."

Surprise flicked across Lucius' cold gray eyes.

"You don't think I'd let him forget this, do you?" Ginny asked with a sly smirk.

"I don't think either of them deserves to forget this," Katarina added.

"Yes, well... Would you like some assistance getting him to your chambers?"

"Thank you, that would be good," Ginny answered.

"Perhaps if I intervened, Mrs. Zabini might be able to get her journey home under way?" Lucius suggested gently.

"If you think you can convince those two that they can spend a night apart," Ginny challenged.

"Hardly a challenge," Lucius drawled.

Ginny put her hand on Katarina's arm to stop the other woman from following Lucius over to the men. If he thought he could get the two intoxicated men to cooperate then he could do it alone. They watched closely, with poorly veiled humor, as the older wizard tried several different methods to garner his son's attention.

"Draco!" Lucius snarled loudly.

"Father!" Draco squinted as he tried to focus on the newcomer. "Blaise, look at who's here."

"Mr. Malfoy!" Blaise pumped Lucius' hand as though he hadn't seen him for years. "A drink! We need to have a drink."

"Thank you, Blaise, but I feel I must decline at this late hour," Lucius replied in an overly formal manner.

"You can't." Blaise shook his head and placed one of his hands on Lucius' chest. "I insist."

"Perhaps another time," Lucius countered, removing the wizard's hand from his front. "At the moment, I must confess, I'm rather concerned about your lovely wife."

"Katarina?"

"Yes." Lucius paused to ensure he had the man's full attention. "She's expecting, is she not?"

"Yeah." Blaise grinned and puffed his chest up. "I'm going to be a father."

"She's looking a little peaked at the moment," Lucius informed him seriously.

"She is?"

"Yes, and here you are ignoring her needs at such a delicate time, just to have some fun with a friend." Lucius smirked as a now concerned Blaise raced to Katarina's side with promises to escort her home immediately.

The women hardly had time to say their goodbyes before a fussing Blaise was rushing his wife across the foyer.

As the front doors closed behind the last of the guests Lucius turned to face his daughter-in-law. "That is how it is done easily, my dear."

"Well done," Ginny praised.

"Now, shall I escort this one upstairs?" Lucius inquired, tilting his head in Draco's direction.

"Thank you, that would be good."

Ginny stayed by the staircase and watched Lucius gather his protesting son. Draco was demanding that his father join him for a drink and trying to steer them in the direction of the parlor, but Lucius politely declined each time and directed him firmly to the staircase.

"You are a stubborn old bastard," Draco stated halfway up the stairs.

"Thank you," Lucius responded courteously.

"You are," Draco reiterated. "But I still love you."

Lucius' chuckle was stifled when Draco placed a sloppy kiss on his cheek. If he'd had a free hand, he'd have wiped the slobber from his face immediately, but as it was he had his hands full negotiating the stairs with his inebriated son leaning heavily on him. When they reached Draco's chambers, Lucius gently guided his son onto the sofa in his private sitting room.

"Thank you," Ginny whispered.

"You're welcome." Lucius sighed heavily as he looked at his son sprawled on the long seat. "He's going to be feeling a little more than regretful in the morning, I should think."

"I've no doubt," Ginny agreed.

"He should be asleep in—" Lucius stopped as Draco's first snore filled the room. "It's probably best to leave him here for the night. You need your sleep, and you won't get it with that noise right next to you."

"Probably not." Ginny sighed as another grating snore rattled her eardrums.

"Goodnight, Ginevra."

"Thank you, Lucius. Goodnight."

When Lucius had closed the door softly behind himself, Ginny summoned a blanket and threw it over her husband's body. Their first real dinner party seemed to have been a smashing success, in more ways than one. Everyone appeared to have had a grand time, despite the men drinking more than they should have, and that was all that really mattered. She placed a gentle kiss on Draco's forehead and retired to the bedchamber, leaving the door open just in case Draco woke up during the night and wanted to join her.

* * *

_**AUTHOR'S NOTES**_

_Thanks to Rainpuddle13 for her amazing beta skills and entertaining plot discussions._


	12. Close to Catastrophe

**_Disclaimer_**_: I don't own any of the characters you may recognize from the wonderful world of Harry Potter, they all belong to the revered JK Rowling; I just like to play with them a little._

**CHAPTER TWELVE **

**CLOSE TO CATASTROPHE **

Draco cringed as a large figure dropped into the vacant chair opposite him. _So much for a quiet lunch_, he groused to himself. Then again, he should have known he couldn't get away with having lunch at The Leaky Cauldron without seeing at least one of his wife's relatives. "Weasley."

"Malfoy," Ron acknowledged. "What are you having?"

"My lunch."

"I can see that." Ron reached across the table and poked a large, dirty finger at the meat on Draco's plate. "What is it?"

"Beef, I believe."

"Is it good?"

"It was," Draco snarled.

"Fancy seeing you here, Draco," Harry said as he sat down next Ron.

"Fancy," Draco repeated sarcastically.

"Not your usual watering hole for lunch," Harry commented.

"No, but I was on my way back from a meeting, and I was hungry," Draco explained slowly, as if talking to a three-year-old. Patience was, apparently, not his friend today.

"We've just finished a raid," Ron informed him. "They always make me hungry."

"Is there anything that doesn't make you hungry, Weasley?"

Ron appeared to think for a moment. "Nope, I don't think so."

Draco shook his head in disgust.

"Enjoy, gentlemen," Tom, the barkeeper, said as he placed two plates of food on the table with a couple of Butterbeers.

"Thanks, Tom," Harry responded cheerfully, passing Ron's lunch over to him.

"Butterbeer?" Draco raised an eyebrow as he took a healthy gulp of his Firewhisky. "Are you two still at school?"

"Unlike some, we have to remain sober, while we're on duty," Ron pointed out.

"How unfortunate," Draco drawled.

"So, do you remember much about Saturday night?" Harry asked.

"Not much," Draco admitted. "You?"

"Nope, but I've been given a full commentary."

Draco smirked. "Let me guess… You were in trouble Sunday morning?"

Harry looked across the table in disbelief. "Are you telling me you weren't?"

"I was, but I managed to silence the rant fairly easily."

"How?" Ron asked curiously. His ears were still burning from the telling off Pansy delivered.

"One thing I did remember was you telling me that Ginny had been to the Burrow on Saturday."

"Yeah?"

"When she started going on about my behavior at the dinner party, I simply mentioned that I knew she'd been there, after we'd agreed that she wasn't going to go."

Harry looked skeptical. "That worked?"

"It appears to have."

Ron snorted. "For the time being."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Draco bit out harshly.

"It means, she'll wait until you've forgotten all about it, and then she'll bring it up, and you won't have a leg to stand on," Ron informed him. "My sister has a very long memory."

"Be that as it may, but my _wife_ is open about her displeasure, so if I was going to hear about it I would have already, despite her failing to keep her word."

"We'll see," Ron uttered confidently.

"Did you raid anyone I know?" Draco asked in an effort to change the subject.

"As a matter of fact, yes," Harry responded.

"Are you going to tell me who?"

"Nott."

"He's clean," Draco snapped defensively.

"Well, he thought he was too." Harry rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably.

Draco's expression morphed into one of grave concern. "He wasn't?"

"Nope," Ron answered through a mouthful of food.

"It's not a big deal," Harry clarified. "All that's happened is a few family heirlooms have made their way out of storage and we confiscated them."

"He's not in trouble?"

Harry shook his head. "Nah, he had no intention of using them; they were just on display."

"I don't think he knew exactly what they could do anyway," Ron added.

"We'll send him a fine for not handing them in, and that will be the end of it as far as we're concerned," Harry explained simply.

Ron looked directly at Draco. "You don't have any dark objects lurking around the house, do you?"

"Your lot took them all years ago," Draco muttered.

"You'll want to double check," Harry said seriously. "We're starting the rounds again."

Draco sighed heavily. "Do you really have to—"

Harry looked sympathetic. "You know we do."

"I was just thinking about Ginny and the twins." Draco sighed again. "It's not a pleasant experience, and it's one I'd rather they didn't have to experience."

"We'll try to give you fair warning when it's going to happen and make sure we get the job. Maybe you can take them away for the day or something," Harry said understandingly. "You know we can't not—"

"Yeah, I know." Draco pushed his unfinished lunch aside, his appetite suddenly deserting him.

"Just make sure there's nothing to find," Ron reiterated.

Draco nodded dismally. It was something they'd grown used to over the years, but it was something Ginny knew nothing about, as far as he knew.

"We'd better get back to the office," Harry said, pushing his now empty plate aside.

"Paperwork," Ron griped, standing up. "I hate paperwork!"

"We'll see you Sunday then," Harry commented as he got to his feet.

"Sunday?" Draco questioned with a frown. He didn't recall Ginny saying anything about having plans for Sunday.

Ron stared at the blond with open disbelief for a moment. "Yeah, the birthday lunch at the Burrow."

"Oh, of course," Draco uttered, wondering whose birthday it was this week.

"What did you get her?" Ron inquired.

"Ginny takes care of that sort of thing," Draco replied offhandedly.

"She buys her _own_ birthday present?" Ron asked incredulously.

Draco could feel the blood in his body begin to drain away, and the air in the room suddenly disappeared. "No," he whispered.

"You forgot her birthday," Ron teased.

"I did not," Draco retorted sharply.

"Really? Then what did you get her?"

"Nothing...yet."

"So you're going shopping this afternoon?"

"Err—"

Ron and Harry exchanged knowing looks.

"He forgot," Ron said to Harry.

"No doubt about it." Harry shook his head sorrowfully.

"I just told you, I didn't forget," Draco snapped.

"Tell me, Malfoy, what's the date?"

"It's the eleventh—" Draco's mouth suddenly went dry and his heart began to hammer in his chest.

"That's right, it's the eleventh of August." Ron nodded slowly for emphasis. "Ginny's birthday."

"You forgot!" Harry pointed out unnecessarily.

Raw panic began to grip Draco as the enormity of his stuff up became apparent. The week had been crazy, but it was no excuse for forgetting such an important day.

"What are you going to do?" Harry asked with a touch of sympathy.

"I—umm—" Draco ran his hands over his face and through his hair in frustration. His head was so clouded with blind terror that he couldn't think straight.

"Malfoy, you are going to do something, aren't you?" Ron prompted.

"Yeah, I— err—"

"It's not too late to fix it," Harry said as he sat back down.

"What are you doing?" Ron asked his partner.

Harry looked meaningfully at Ron, and then, somewhat, sympathetically at the blond across from him.

"Bloody hell," Ron cursed as he dropped back into the chair he'd not long vacated. "Remind me why we're doing this?"

"Because we're Aurors, and it's our job to keep everyone safe," Harry explained. "Even if it is Malfoy."

"I don't need to be kept safe," Draco snarled defensively.

"Mate, if Ginny found out that you'd forgotten her birthday, death would be kinder than living with that year after year," Harry reminded him.

"So, what are we going to do?" Ron asked.

"We need a plan," Harry answered simply.

"A plan?" Draco questioned.

Harry pushed his glasses up and focused on the man across from him. "Something you can pull together really quickly."

"Like what?" Draco snarled unintentionally.

"What would you have done had you remembered?" Harry inquired.

"Dinner most likely."

Harry nodded approvingly. "Dinner it is then. Now, is it going to be just the two of you, or do you want to invite friends?"

"She'd like her friends to come," Ron interrupted.

"Draco?" Harry pressed.

"Yeah, friends," Draco mumbled. While it would have been easier to have an intimate dinner with her, he knew if he invited friends it would look as though he'd been planning this for quite a while, and thus negate any idea that he may have forgotten. "I need to make a guest list and pick somewhere to have dinner."

"And get her something," Ron added. "You'll be in deep dragon shit if you don't."

"Do you want a hand organizing it?" Harry asked.

Draco shook his head. "No, it's all right; I'll get my secretary to do everything."

"Don't say we didn't offer," Ron commented.

"You're both free this evening?" Draco queried hopefully.

Ron grinned. "Yeah, we're free."

"Good, I'll let you know the details when I work it all out." Draco drained the last of his Firewhisky and stood, ready to leave. "I'll see you tonight then."

"See you." Harry chuckled amusedly at the retreating blond.

"Malfoy, make sure you pick somewhere good for dinner," Ron called after him. "I'm likely to be hungry!"

Draco ignored the two Aurors and hurried into Diagon Alley. He had to get back to his office as fast as he could and start working on securing a venue for this evening. As he raced through the shopping district, his thoughts turned to what sort of gift he could get Ginny. It had to be something spectacular to make up for his lax memory and, if nothing else, assuage his guilty conscience.

Rather than wait for the elevator, Draco's sense of urgency pushed him to take the stairs at Malfoy Holdings. The sooner he got to his office the sooner he could rectify this problem, and he felt much better if he simply kept moving, like he was already making progress.

"Mr. Malfoy, is everything all right?" Draco's secretary asked as her disheveled boss ran into the room.

"No! No, everything is a mess," Draco blurted. "I can't believe I forgot."

"Forgot what, sir?"

Draco took a deep breath and glanced furtively over his shoulder, lest Ginny be standing right behind him. "My wife's birthday," he whispered harshly.

"Oh dear."

"I need to organize a birthday dinner somewhere and make a guest list."

"There are several good choices in restaurants, sir," his secretary reminded him efficiently.

"Just pick a good one and make the booking. We'll need a private room," Draco prattled on. "I'll let you know numbers as soon as I've decided on the guest list."

"Yes, sir. When would you like me to make the booking for?"

"Seven o'clock."

"What day, sir?"

"Tonight."

The older woman's eyes flicked up to meet Draco's. A sliver of disappointment marred her surprised expression.

"Don't look at me like that," Draco growled. "I feel bad enough as it is."

She cleared her throat, and rid her face of the surprised look, but the disappointment remained clear. "When did you remember?"

"I just ran into one of her brothers, and he asked me what I'd bought her." Draco sighed forcefully. "And then the world ceased to exist as I know it."

"You owe that brother a debt of gratitude," she observed quietly.

"I know." Draco pulled a face and groaned. "Of all her brothers, it had to be that one."

"Does Mrs. Malfoy know that you've forgotten?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Just in case she has any suspicion, we can call this a 'surprise birthday dinner', and that will explain why you didn't say anything earlier. If you can ask your guests not to say anything to her it should work beautifully."

"Thank you," Draco intoned genuinely.

"I'll make the arrangements, and you work on your guest list. The restaurant will want approximate numbers as soon as possible."

"Yes, of course." Draco wandered into his office, thanking Merlin as he went that he had a competent, unflappable secretary who could solve little problems like this one with a minimum of fuss, even if she did look at him like he was a Blast-Ended Skrewt occasionally.

A half an hour later Draco had a guest list in place, though he wasn't confident that he'd invited everyone that Ginny would have, but there was little he could do about it now, without admitting this was a last minute thing. As soon as he confirmed the details of the booking with his secretary and made sure everyone had been owled, he was going to head back into the shopping district to find a perfect gift for Ginny.

"Sir?"

Draco looked up to find his secretary peering around the doorframe. "Come in," Draco summoned. "I've just finished the guest list."

"We have a small problem."

"What?"

"No one will take a booking for this evening." She paused as her boss' face contorted into a pained expression. "They're all fully booked."

"Offer them one thousand Galleons extra to accept the booking," Draco ground out. "It's only twenty people."

"I'll try again, sir."

Draco sat back in his chair, cursing himself for being so stupid as to forget her birthday. The sound of a familiar throat being cleared in his doorway forced him to crack an eye open. Dread filled his stomach.

"Father?"

"Did I just hear your secretary offering someone one thousand Galleons to take a booking for twenty people?"

"Most likely."

"Can I ask why you are being so frivolous?"

"It's Ginny's birthday."

"Your mother reminded me this morning. Are you doing something special this evening?"

"I'm trying to organize something."

Lucius regarded his son for a long moment and then smirked. "You forgot, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"And now you're trying to make amends?"

"It would seem so."

"Let me offer you an invaluable piece of advice." Lucius paused, waiting for the intolerant expression to evaporate from his son's face — it didn't, but he forged ahead anyway. "Once you have forgotten it is too late to make amends. You're far better putting your efforts into soothing her privately, than parading her around in front of a crowd, trying to delay the inevitable."

"She doesn't know about my pitiful memory," Draco snapped. "And if I act quick enough she won't ever find out."

"What makes you think that?"

"There are only four people who know I forgot, and I know three of the four are willing to keep their silence. If you agree not to say anything that will make four."

"You have my word, but I do ask you to consider how Ginevra might like to celebrate her birthday."

"What do you mean?"

"Would she really appreciate a party?" Lucius posed.

"I'm simply trying to organize dinner with a few friends in a reputable restaurant." Draco's eyes shot to the door as his secretary tapped lightly on the heavy wood. "Well?"

"I'm sorry, sir, I can't get anyone to accept your offer."

"Fuck!"

"Draco!" Lucius snarled viciously.

"What am I supposed to bloody well do now?" Draco threw his quill down on his desk forcefully.

"Vulgar language is hardly going to solve your problem." Lucius looked at the woman standing just inside the door. "You tried all the restaurants we would usually patronize?"

"Yes, sir, and some that are not on the regular list."

"Very well, it seems there is little that can be done to persuade them if they are refusing such a generous booking fee," Lucius conceded. "It may be time to alert a real expert."

"Who?" Draco asked desperately.

Lucius smirked. "Your mother."

"What could Mother achieve that I haven't—"

"Your mother has contacts within the industry, and she will be able to plan such an evening with ease, and most likely without costing us an extra Knut," Lucius pointed out.

"Granted," Draco admitted begrudgingly.

"You need to make a Floo call then," Lucius encouraged.

Draco looked at the hearth as if it was infested with hungry Acromantulas, all telling him what a bad husband he was.

"She will scold you for forgetting, but when she's finished, she'll make certain your evening is perfectly planned," Lucius continued.

The silvery Floo powder taunted him. He knew the answers to his problems were only a discussion with his mother away, but it was going to be a painful discussion and he wasn't looking forward to that for understandable reasons.

"The less time you give her, the more irritated she will be with you," Lucius warned.

"Yes, yes," Draco growled, snatching a handful of Floo powder from its decanter. "Narcissa Malfoy, Malfoy Manor!"

The swirl of the Floo Network left Draco feeling disorientated for a few seconds, but he soon regained his poise and bellowed for his mother.

"There's no need to shout like that, Draco," Narcissa said, rising from her desk and moving around to the hearth. "I'm right here."

"Sorry, Mother, but this is an emergency."

"Oh dear, what has happened? Is it your father?"

"No, nothing like that," Draco assured her quickly. "It's Ginny's birthday."

"Yes, I know, darling. We had a lovely lunch in the garden with the children."

Panic rippled through his body. Ginny may have decided to spend the afternoon with his mother and could be privy to this conversation. "Where is she now?"

"She decided to take the children to visit her mother."

Draco breathed a sigh of relief. "Good."

"Now, what seems to be the emergency?"

"It's just that I—err—I—"

"Don't stammer, Draco," Narcissa chided.

"I forgot it was her birthday," he ground out.

"Oh, Draco, how could you?"

"I didn't mean to," Draco whined. "We've just been so busy that I lost track of the date. I only just realized what the date is when I was having lunch."

"This is a problem."

"Not if she doesn't find out."

"She didn't say anything to me."

"As far as I know, she doesn't realize I forgot," Draco explained.

"You don't have a problem then."

"Yes, I do." Draco sighed. "I was trying to put together a birthday dinner for her, but I can't get a booking anywhere. I even offered them a thousand Galleons to see their way clear, but no one would accept it."

"Well, if they're not accepting extra for the trouble that generally means they're booked out, darling."

"I realize that. My problem now is what do I do? How do I arrange dinner for twenty or so people and where?"

Narcissa looked pensive for a moment or two. "I have some ideas that could help, but tell me, darling, do you really need to invite so many people?"

"Not really. I wanted it to look like I'd been planning this for a while, so if she suspected that I'd forgotten her thoughts would be dismissed without question."

"To be completely honest, darling, I think Ginevra would appreciate a private celebration at the moment," Narcissa said gently.

"What makes you think that, Mother?"

Narcissa rolled her eyes delicately. "Darling, Ginevra is expecting, and she is tired, most especially after all the running around she did while her mother was in hospital. I think she would far better appreciate a romantic dinner for two than a party style affair at the moment."

"All right," Draco agreed slowly. "If you think that would be best."

"I know it would be best, and besides you still have the Weasley luncheon on Sunday to celebrate with everyone else."

"Of course." Draco rolled his eyes mentally. How could he forget about the traditional Weasley birthday torture, even momentarily?

"Just leave the arrangements to me, darling, and I'll make everything perfect."

"Thank you, Mother."

"Do you have a gift yet?"

"No, that was next on my agenda."

"Remember to get her something from the children as well."

"I will."

"Try to come home early this evening, so you can spend some time with the children before dinner."

"I'll try, and thank you, Mother."

"It's a pleasure, darling."

Draco knew his mother wanted to get on with whatever it was she was already planning, so he withdrew from the hearth. When he sat back in his chair he felt a lot better than he did earlier. While he wasn't able to arrange the dinner party, he knew his mother would ensure the evening was special. All he had to do now was find at least three suitable gifts.

"Well?" Lucius inquired curiously.

"Mother is taking care of everything. We won't be having a big dinner party, but she'll make it special."

"Perhaps it's wise to hold off on the dinner party anyway," Lucius commented. "Ginevra is a little tired at the present, from what I've seen."

"Yeah, she is," Draco admitted.

"What do you have to do?"

"Find gifts!"

"You didn't get her a gift?"

Draco sent his father a pained look.

"I'll take that as a resounding no, and add the fact that you've put no prior thought into what you might like to buy her."

"That about covers it."

"In that case, there's really only one solution."

"Do tell?"

"Jewelry," Lucius said simply.

"Father, you know she's not—"

"Nonsense! All women love jewelry."

"Yes, but she doesn't see the value in having it sit in her jewelry box until an event comes along where she can wear it."

"If I might make a suggestion?"

"Go ahead."

"Buy her something simple for everyday wear, something personal that she can value sentimentally, rather than for its market value."

Draco thought for a while. The idea had some merit and would solve one of his problems. "I'll look into that."

"When are you going shopping?"

"Now, actually. I have no idea how long it's going to take me to find something."

"Very well." Lucius sighed pensively.

"Is there a problem?"

"I was rather hoping you'd take the time to brief me about your meeting this morning."

"It went well. I've laid the preliminary groundwork, and I've invited them to meet here next week, so we can continue our talks."

"Good."

"There was one other thing I had to tell you as well," Draco started.

"Oh?"

"Harry and Ron told me that they've started raiding everyone again, just to make sure no one has anything that was missed in the past."

"This is ludicrous! When are they going to stop wasting our time?"

"I suppose that will be when it is a waste of time for them."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means, they raided the Nott's this morning and found dark objects, so they won't be giving up this annoying habit any time soon."

"Really? Have they been arrested?"

"No, Harry was happy with Theo's explanation that he found them in storage and simply put them on display, but didn't know what they were or what they were capable of," Draco explained. "Apparently, they're going to fine him and let it go at that. They did ask me to double check that we didn't have anything lying around."

"Much of it was gone the first time they raided us," Lucius answered in an off-handed manner.

"Father, we don't have anything that could embarrass us, do we?"

"Of course not."

"We'd better not," Draco muttered, mostly to himself. "I'm going to head back out now. If I have time I'll come back, otherwise I'll head straight home if it gets too late."

"I'll see you this evening then."

"Perhaps," Draco answered absently as his father left the office. There was something not quite right about his demeanor. It was nothing Draco could put his finger on precisely, but there was definitely something a little disturbing about Lucius' manner.

* * *

When Draco finally Apparated into the grounds of his home he had but one wish: for his head to stop hurting. Hours of shopping for the perfect gifts had done him in, but he hadn't come home empty handed — he hadn't dared. With the stealth of a cat on the prowl, he snuck around to his mother's parlor, hoping to have a word to her about the plans she had made for the evening before he saw Ginny.

As he neared the French doors that led to his mother's summer parlor, Draco noticed they were open. Luck was on his side, so far. Now he just hoped she was in there alone. He peered through the window just beside the glass doors looking for any sign of life within.

"Draco, what are you doing?"

His heart immediately tried to exit his body through his ribcage, and he swung around in a panic.

"Mother, you might make some noise when you're sneaking around."

"I was doing no such thing," Narcissa refuted. "You, on the other hand, are guilty of questionable behavior."

"I simply wanted a word with you before I see Ginny."

"Did you find suitable gifts?"

"Yes."

"You did remember to get something from the children?"

"Yes, Mother, I had most of it delivered directly to my study."

"Wonderful. Now, everything is ready for tonight."

"Care to tell me the details, so I don't look like a fool?"

"Of course, darling." Narcissa smiled, pleased with herself about what she was about to reveal. "It will be an intimate dinner for the two of you and—"

"Daddy!"

Draco looked over his shoulder to see his son running up to him at full speed. He could see Ginny and Angel making their way towards him as well, though at a more sedate pace. "Drake."

"You're home early!"

"I am." Draco's mind was working a million miles an hour, trying to work out some reason for him being here and not seeking Ginny out first. "I was trying to find Mummy."

"We went for a walk."

Draco grinned. He now had his reasons all worked out. "Well, that explains why I couldn't find you."

"It's Mummy's birthday!"

"I know." Draco shot a quick glance at his advancing wife. "Mother, I need those details."

"I will get them to you, darling. There's no hurry. Now, go and spend some time with your children."

With a last worried glance at his mother, Draco strode off to meet his wife. Not knowing what was planned for he evening didn't sit well with him, and it was likely to make him look more than a little foolish if he couldn't bluff his way through.

Angel flung herself into her father's arms. "Daddy!"

"Hello, Princess."

"You're home early!"

"Your brother has already pointed that out," Draco said with a smirk. "How about you hop down, so I can say hello to Mummy?"

Angel didn't protest when Draco put her on her feet, but a displeased pout was playing over her lips.

"Happy birthday, love," Draco whispered as his hands cupped her face.

"Thank you," Ginny uttered just before her lips were lost to his mouth.

The feel of her silky tresses running through his fingers and the heat of her body as she melted into him had his groin stirring in directions that weren't entirely appropriate for the setting. When her tongue brushed against his lips conscious thought became a thing of the past.

"Ewww."

Draco sighed into her mouth as the Drake's protest came thundering into their private world. He supposed he should be thankful that his son wasn't shy about reminding them who was watching, because his self-control had been slipping away. As they slowly drifted apart, Draco could hear Drake prattling on about something, but he couldn't quite comprehend what the child was saying.

"—please, Daddy?"

"What was that, Drake?"

The little wizard rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. "Can we go flying?"

"No, it's Mummy's birthday, so we'll be doing something she can do."

"Like what?"

"I don't know yet," Draco admitted. "Why don't you think about it while we walk back to our side of the house?"

"Flying," Drake said matter-of-factly as he set off through the grounds.

Draco shook his head after his son. "Angel, are you coming?"

"Yes, Daddy."

He slipped his arm around his wife's shoulders as Angel skipped away. "Shall we?"

"All right."

"Is there anything special you'd like to do?"

"Not particularly." Ginny glanced up at Draco as they walked. He looked supremely smug for some reason. "Why are you home so early?"

"You were still sleeping when I left this morning, so I thought I'd come home a bit earlier than normal to wish you a happy birthday, and to spend some time with you."

"You could have just Flooed."

"I did, but you were at the Burrow." It wasn't a complete lie, because he had Flooed and discovered she was at the Burrow, and she need never know that he had no intention of talking to her at the time.

"Oh, yes, Mum wanted me to come over for afternoon tea. I think she was a bit bored."

"Sure she was," Draco responded with a smirk.

"She was!" Ginny protested. "Anya Flooed me this morning and asked that I make sure I dropped in today, because Mum was driving her insane."

"I believe you," Draco responded in a tone that clearly said he didn't believe a word she'd told him.

Ginny pouted in a frightening parody of her daughter. "You can ask Anya if you don't believe me."

"I might just do that," Draco answered cheekily.

"Well, you can," Ginny replied confidently, tossing her head in the other direction.

Draco laughed at her princess-like antics. She didn't show this side of her personality often, but it amused him when she did. "Well, my princess, where are we headed?"

Ginny rolled her eyes at him comically. He hadn't even seen her inner princess yet. "The patio," she said decisively. "It's such a nice afternoon."

"I agree."

Drake and Angel were waiting by the wards that guarded their play area. Drake was amusing himself by throwing anything he could find in the garden at the invisible barrier and watching it bounce off in a shower of sparks.

"Drake, if you keep doing that you might compromise the wards."

The little boy turned around and frowned deeply at his father.

"You'll set the alarms off if you're not careful," Draco explained further.

"I was being careful," Drake responded earnestly.

Draco raised an eyebrow at his son, but didn't pursue the subject any further. He didn't want to get bogged down in some long-winded explanation about how the wards worked and what being careful really meant. With a flick of his wand, Draco lifted the wards so the family could enter the secured area, and once everyone was within its boundaries he reinstated the wards.

"Millie," Ginny called as she mounted the stairs to the patio.

"Mistress did summon Millie?"

"Yes, I think we'll have a large jug of pumpkin juice out here."

"As Mistress—"

"And a bottle of Mead," Draco added before the servant could disappear.

"Yes, Master."

Ginny cast a questioning glance at her husband, but there was a smile playing around her lips.

"I've had a hell of a day," Draco explained, sinking into a chair.

"What went wrong?" Ginny asked, making herself comfortable on his knee.

"You don't want to know," Draco answered quickly. "It's dreadfully boring stuff. I'd rather hear about your day."

"Well, I had a lovely morning playing with the children, and then your mother invited us to have lunch with her in the garden. After that I went to see my mum, and we had afternoon tea with Anya and Charlie."

Draco kissed her neck. "Sounds much better than my day."

Millie reappeared, placing the ordered drinks on the table and pouring pumpkin juice for Ginny and the twins.

"Thank you, Millie," Ginny said.

The old house elf looked a little awkward for a moment before Disapparating.

"You shouldn't do that," Draco scolded lightly.

"What?"

"Thank her," Draco clarified. "It makes her uncomfortable."

"Well, it makes me uncomfortable if I don't thank her."

Draco drew his head back and looked at Ginny's face. "I can't win, can I?"

"Nope, so you may as well give up now."

"I'll just have to distract you then."

"And how do you expect to do that?"

Draco gently encouraged Ginny to get to her feet. "Just stay here. I need a minute or two with our children."

Ginny quirked an eyebrow at him, but didn't question his request. Instead, she made herself comfortable on the chair he'd just vacated and watched him walk out to the twins.

He could feel her eyes on him as he crossed to where Drake and Angel were playing. If there was some way they could get out of her line of vision without arousing her suspicions he would attempt it, but Draco knew if he were to attempt such a thing she'd be on her feet, following them in an instant.

"Drake, Angel, come in close," Draco called quietly.

"What's wrong, Daddy?" Angel asked; her gray eyes expectantly wide.

"Nothing. I just thought it might be time to give Mummy her birthday presents."

Angel began to squeal with excitement, but Draco hushed her quickly.

"Millie!" Draco said just loud enough for the servant to have heard.

"Master did summon Millie."

"There should have been a delivery this afternoon that went directly to my study. Bring everything that arrived out here to the lawn and get some help or you'll have to make several trips."

"As Master wishes." With a deep bow Millie Disapparated.

"What did you get her?" Drake asked curiously.

"You'll see," Draco whispered. "If I tell you now she might overhear."

"Oh, okay then," Drake whispered conspiratorially.

After what seemed an eternity Millie returned, along with two other house elves, their arms full of elegantly wrapped packages. Draco watched Ginny's face closely as the servants passed her; she looked both curious and excited at the same time.

"Just place them down here," Draco ordered, pointing to the ground next to him.

A young house elf stepped forward, holding a scroll of expensive parchment in its twisted hand. "Old Mistress did say to give this to the Master."

Draco quickly searched through the parcels, looking for one in particular. When he came across it, he seized it and handed it to Millie. "Put this one in my dressing room."

"Yes, Master."

"Where was that note?" Draco took the offered missive and dismissed the servants. His mother had said she'd get word to him about what she'd arranged and her timing couldn't have been better, because he could now discover what he should have already known without worrying about Ginny finding out.

"Daddy, what one can I give Mummy?" Drake asked excitedly.

"Just a moment, mate, I've got to read this," Draco answered distractedly. "Angel, leave the bows alone."

The little witch sighed disappointedly, but her hand returned to her side.

Draco unfurled the missive and scanned it quickly.

_Darling,_

_Everything is arranged for this evening. Formal attire would be appropriate. Your transport will meet you at the front of the house at half past six. You will need to Apparate home._

_Mother_

He turned it over, looking for more details, but was disappointed when he didn't find any clues as to what the arrangements were. While his mother probably thought it safer not to be specific in the note, in case Ginny saw it, Draco would have preferred to be fully aware of what was happening.

"All right, let's go and spoil Mummy," Draco announced, stuffing the parchment into his pocket, so he could dispose of it later. He gave the children two packages each to convey to their mother. "Don't run or you'll drop them."

Drake and Angel walked carefully to the patio, being very careful not to drop the gifts. They gave the packages to Ginny, who put them on the table, and then lavished her with hugs and kisses.

Draco waited until the twins had moved aside and then he stepped forward, placing the two large parcels he had on the table. "Happy birthday, love."

"Thank you."

"Open this one first, Mummy," Angel insisted, pointing to one of the presents she'd delivered.

"All right," Ginny agreed.

"Actually, I think you should open this one first," Draco said, passing her the largest box.

"Oh?"

"Just open it," Draco urged.

"But, Daddy—"

"Angel, there's a reason Mummy needs to open this one first, but I can't say why or it'll spoil the surprise," Draco said gently.

The little witch pouted a bit, but didn't say anything further.

"I'll open that one next, if it doesn't mess with Daddy's plans," Ginny promised, looking at Draco.

He nodded, which brought the smile back to Angel's face.

Ginny carefully untied the satin bow and allowed the pretty paper to fall away from the box. She rested the box on the table and lifted the lid off to find fine tissue paper hiding the contents. With a pleased grin, Ginny folded the tissue paper back and lifted what appeared to be a beautiful royal blue gown from the box. Unable to fully appreciate the dress while she was sitting down, Ginny got to her feet, allowing the gown to fall its full length, so she could admire it.

It was gathered across the breast area to give definition, with a display of what she thought, and knowing Draco most likely was, real diamonds in the middle that had two fine straps leading off to secure behind her neck in a halter fashion. The skirt fell gently from just below the breast line, billowing out so that it wasn't fitted in any way, yet the fabric was so soft that it would cling lightly to the wearer's natural curves to maintain a feminine look.

"The couturier said that it's a popular choice for expectant mothers, even though it's one of their normal designs," Draco said.

A light frown creased Ginny's forehead. "Normal?"

"Not pregnant," Draco murmured, suddenly wondering if he'd made an error in judgment.

"It's so pretty, Mummy," Angel said enthusiastically.

"It is pretty," Ginny agreed, smiling brightly at her daughter's excitement.

"It's just a dress," Drake grumbled, obviously disappointed it wasn't something he'd find interesting.

"Do you really like it?" Draco asked tentatively.

"Oh yes, thank you," Ginny said genuinely. "I love it, I really do."

"You can return it if—"

"Draco, it's a beautiful dress," Ginny interrupted. "You have excellent taste."

"Good, I'm glad you like it."

"Open this one now, Mummy," Angel insisted.

"All right, pass it here."

Under the tasteful paper and pretty ribbon Ginny again found a box. Inside sat a pair of silver sandals that she knew would look amazing with the gown she'd already unwrapped.

"Oh, they're lovely!"

"Shoes!" Angel bounced excitedly.

"This one is next," Draco announced, taking the shoes from Ginny's hands and placing the other larger box in front of her.

"Is this something good?" Drake asked hopefully.

"I'm sure Mummy will think so," Draco answered with a smirk.

"Another boring present," Drake muttered under his breath.

Draco cleared his throat and gave his son a pointed look.

Ginny hid her amused smile behind the wrapping paper she was removing from the gift. She knew Drake was likely to find anything she might receive for her birthday boring, unless of course it was a broomstick to rival his, and that wasn't likely to happen.

"What is it, Mummy?" Angel asked excitedly, leaning forward in her chair to the point where she was in danger of falling off.

"Sit back, and I'll show you," Ginny answered as she stood up to reveal a cloak to match her new gown perfectly. "Isn't it beautiful?"

"Oh yes! I want one like that!"

"Maybe when you get older," Draco responded quickly. He didn't want to think about the day when his baby girl would be old enough to wear gowns of the caliber that he purchased for his wife; it meant that boys would be sniffing around. "Drake, why don't you pass Mummy that little gift you brought over?"

"This one?" Drake held up a small box tied with gold ribbon.

"Yes, that one."

"Here, Mummy."

"Thank you, sweetheart," Ginny said as the present was thrust into her hand.

As she lifted the lid from the small box Ginny gasped with delight. Nestled on a small rich velvet cushion was the exquisite cloak pin she'd ever seen. There was no doubt in her mind that the gems crusted onto the exposed faces of the pin were real diamonds and that Draco had bought it to match her new cloak and gown.

"It's beautiful," she barely whispered, fingering the fine workmanship.

"Not as beautiful as you," Draco replied hoarsely.

Ginny's eyes flicked up to meet with Draco's. His gray orbs were starting to darken just slightly and a small smile was playing around his lips, as if he were already picturing what he'd rather be doing at this moment.

"Here you are," Lucius exclaimed as he led Narcissa onto the patio. "Many happy returns, Ginevra."

"Thank you," Ginny muttered, forcibly dragging her eyes away from her husband's magnetic gaze and smiling for the sake of her in-laws.

Narcissa looked from her son to his wife and frowned slightly. "We didn't disturb anything, did we?"

"Of course not, Mother," Draco replied, as if he hadn't just shared a most intimate look with his wife. "Ginny was just opening her presents."

"Lovely!" Narcissa smiled at Ginny. "That's precisely what we're here for."

"Oh?" Draco queried.

"Yes, we have something rather special for Ginevra," Narcissa informed them.

"You already—" Ginny started.

"Oh, dear, that was just a little something, so you can spoil yourself," Narcissa insisted.

"What's this?" Lucius asked, curious as to what his wife may have done behind his back.

"I've arranged for Ginevra to have a day at the women's retreat," Narcissa told him.

Lucius rolled his eyes and sighed. The women's retreat his wife was referring to was the Winsford Witch's Retreat in Somerset, and it was responsible for putting sizable holes in his vault from time to time.

"Really, Lucius, that is most unbecoming," Narcissa scolded. "Ginevra deserves a little personal time, and the retreat offers a wonderful package for expectant mothers."

"I'm sure," Lucius drawled. "This is not a habit you want to encourage," he whispered rather loudly to Draco.

"I'll keep that in mind," Draco replied winking at Ginny.

"Mummy, are you going to open this one?" Angel asked, putting another package in front of Ginny.

"Yes, darling."

Ginny set to discovering what her next surprise was while Lucius and Narcissa made themselves comfortable at the table. A beautifully soft, silver clutch bag emerged from the layers of tissue paper.

"Oh my, isn't that lovely," Narcissa said in admiration. "Is it dragon hide?"

"Yes, Mother," Draco replied.

"It's beautiful," Ginny said smiling at Draco.

"This is the last one," Drake announced as he shoved a box across the table.

"Thank you," Ginny intoned happily as she accepted the flat square present. Beneath the ribbon and paper she found a leather box with little brass hinges. Before she even lifted the lid Ginny knew it had to contain jewelry of some description and she wasn't disappointed. Inside the box was a diamond-encrusted bracelet and matching earrings, obviously to go with the gown she'd unwrapped earlier. "They're just beautiful. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Draco said. "There is, of course, a little madness behind my genius... You have a dinner date this evening, and I didn't want you to worry about what you were going to wear."

Ginny smiled at her husband. "Dinner?"

"Yes, and don't ask for any more details, because it's a surprise."

"A surprise?"

"Yes, a surprise." Draco smirked. "And no amount of pleading will get you any information, so don't look at me like that."

"Perhaps, if everyone is agreeable, we can reveal our gift to Ginevra before Draco succumbs to the pressure and spoils his plans for this evening," Lucius suggested.

Draco looked aghast at his father's suggestion that he might tell Ginny what was happening later that night. It wasn't like he could tell her anything of significance anyway, because his mother hadn't supplied him with any details.

"That sounds like a splendid idea, dearest," Narcissa agreed. "By the time we finish it will almost be time for the two of you to start preparing for this evening, so we can take the children directly afterwards."

Ginny opened her mouth to respond to or question what Narcissa had said, Draco wasn't sure which, but he wasn't about to take any chances. "Yes, we should do this or we'll be late."

"The children?" Ginny asked with a slight expression of disapproval.

"They're spending the evening with us," Narcissa replied firmly.

"Oh." Ginny frowned.

Lucius cleared his throat to garner everyone's attention again. "Shall we?"

"Yes! Children, come along," Narcissa insisted as she stood up. "We'll lead the way."

"Where are we going?" Drake asked.

"Our gift is inside the house," Narcissa explained as she took her grandson's hand.

"Why didn't you bring it outside?"

Narcissa's melodic laugh filled the air as she was escorted away by Drake. "Oh, darling, it's far too large to be moving it around."

Draco assisted Ginny to her feet as Narcissa and the twins disappeared inside the house. Lucius paused just long enough to ensure Draco and Ginny were coming, and then he followed his wife and grandchildren.

"Do you know what's going on?"

"Now?" Draco prompted. "I have no idea."

"Your father looks a little smug," Ginny whispered.

"He does, doesn't he?" Draco chuckled. "Does that bother you?"

"It's a bit unsettling," Ginny admitted.

"I'm sure it's because he's thought of the most perfect gift for you," Draco reassured her. "He tends not to be able to hide his expression when he's very pleased with himself."

Ginny rolled her eyes humorously. She'd never known Lucius to be not pleased with himself. "What about tonight?"

"What about it?"

"The children?"

"As Mother told you, they're spending the night with them."

"But—"

Draco placed a finger across her mouth. "No, buts. I have a surprise for you later and it doesn't include the children. They've had all day with you and I want some quality time with you."

"All right," Ginny agreed tentatively.

"We'd best catch up to everyone else," Draco suggested. "We don't want to spoil Father's surprise."

There was little Ginny could do as Draco's longer legs picked up the pace. By the time they'd caught up to Lucius he was standing in the foyer waiting for them.

"Just in here," Lucius directed, indicating one of the front receiving parlors.

Draco led Ginny into the parlor and seated her in one of the French provincial chairs near the hearth. He'd deduced that whatever it was his father had to give to Ginny was above the hearth due to the large sheet covering the wall.

Lucius stood in front of the hearth and waited patiently for the family to get settled. "This room has been used for generations to welcome the most important, influential guests into Malfoy Manor."

"I haven't misused—" Ginny started, feeling a little like she was being admonished for something.

"No, not at all," Lucius interrupted. "It is up to the lady of the house to decide who is welcomed into this room."

"Oh, all right then." Ginny frowned in confusion; she wasn't sure what her father-in-law was getting at now.

"As I was saying, this room is special to the lady of the house and, as such, a portrait has always hung above the hearth in honor of that woman. It is not only my duty to see this that tradition is adhered to, it is also my pleasure." Lucius extracted his wand and flicked it in the direction of the sheet suspended near the wall. "Ginevra, your portrait."

Ginny's hands went to her mouth as the sheet floated gracefully to the floor. Whatever she'd been expecting, it certainly wasn't this. Shock didn't quite describe what she was feeling. "Oh my."

"I took the liberty of having one of your wedding portraits transformed into a painting," Lucius added. "I do hope you approve."

"It's wonderful. I don't know what to—"

Narcissa leaned forward and patted Ginny's hand comfortingly. "I remember how I felt when Abraxas unveiled my portrait. I must say the painter has done an excellent job of yours."

"Thank you." Ginny smiled up at Lucius, even though tears were clouding her vision. "It's beautiful."

"You're most welcome. I'm very pleased you like it," Lucius responded stiltedly, obviously not comfortable with the fact that she was about to cry. "Dearest, I think we should—"

"Of course, come along, children, we have quite an evening planned," Narcissa said as she stood. "Have a lovely evening, Ginevra, and happy birthday."

"Thank you," Ginny muttered, not taking her eyes from the larger than life portrait on the wall. She could vaguely hear her in-laws leaving the room with Drake and Angel, but the sounds were very much distant in her mind.

"Do you really like it?" Draco whispered, placing his hands on her shoulders.

"Yes, I just wasn't expecting anything like this."

"I would have warned you, if I'd been aware of what he had planned, but I had no idea." Draco moved around to kneel in front of her. "It never occurred to me that Mother's portrait would be removed from this room or that the portrait held any significance."

"You didn't know?"

"Nope. I guess there are still some secrets about the manor that I've yet to discover," Draco admitted.

"Where would your mother's portrait have gone?"

"Already worried about what will happen to yours when Drake marries?" Draco teased.

"No," Ginny refuted immediately. "I was just wondering, because it's a beautiful portrait of her."

"I should imagine it was moved to another parlor, perhaps in their wing."

Ginny nodded as her eyes drifted back to the portrait. Unlike normal paintings, this one was animated, like a wizarding photograph. She was standing on the staircase in her wedding dress looking as regal as Narcissa had in her portrait. For the most part her painted self held the pose, but every so often the head turned to glance around the room, as if inspecting the surrounds. Ginny had no idea she could look like that.

"You know what this means, don't you?" Draco said.

"What?"

"Our wedding photographs must be ready finally."

"Colin hasn't contacted me." Ginny frowned. "I wonder why."

"Perhaps Father had something to do with that? He can be quite persuasive if he needs to be."

"Yes." Ginny sighed. She'd sent their wedding photographer, Colin Creevey, more owls than she cared to remember since they'd returned from their honeymoon and had not received a reply to date. "I'll owl him tomorrow and see what's going on."

"Don't be too hard on him," Draco warned lightly. "If Father has somehow persuaded him to keep his silence then—"

"I won't be, but I would like our wedding photos."

"Well, you do have an extraordinary painting to make up for the delay," Draco reminded her, looking to the wall.

"Yes, I never imagined I'd ever have a portrait like that."

"Well, now you do and you deserve it. After all, you are the lady of the manor." Draco leaned in and just touched brushed his lips across hers. "Shall we go and prepare for this evening?"

"If you say so," Ginny answered. "Of course, I wouldn't know how much time I need, because I know absolutely nothing."

"You know what you're wearing," Draco pointed out with a smirk. "And I'll tell you that we need to be ready to leave the house at half past six."

Ginny sighed and looked at him questioningly.

"I'm not telling you anything else, and I'm not going to look at you until you take that expression off your face." Draco stood up and faced the other way.

"You're not being fair." Ginny pouted as his arm went around her and they started to walk out of the parlor.

"Says you, who planned my entire birthday to the point where I wasn't allowed to dress at all for the event."

"You were dressed appropriately," Ginny argued good-naturedly.

"I'm inclined to disagree with you. Have you ever Porkeyed with your bits flying free?"

"I don't have 'bits', darling," Ginny reminded him.

"Well, I can tell you it's most disturbing," Draco told her as they climbed the stairs.

"I'll remember that for the future."

"Are you planning on Portkeying my naked body again any time soon?"

"Perhaps," Ginny answered cheekily, as they turned into the southern wing.

Draco eyed his wife warily. There was a twinkle of mischief in her eyes that he didn't entirely trust. He would have to keep his wits about him over the next few weeks, just in case she decided to have him delivered to her again sans clothes.

* * *

Draco tried not to tap his foot impatiently. It was her birthday and if she needed more time to get ready then he shouldn't complain — at least not so she could hear him anyway. Since entering their private chambers he'd hardly laid eyes on his wife, as she'd taken a fairly long bath, and then had disappeared into her dressing room. He was a gentleman, so he didn't even consider disturbing her preparations for the evening, but he was becoming more anxious by the minute. His mother had said half past six and it was already moving on for that according to his pocket watch. Even if she appeared right now, by the time they walked downstairs they were going to be late.

Just as Draco was cursing himself for not telling her to be ready by a quarter after six Ginny's dressing room door opened and she emerged. His breath caught in his throat.

"Well?" Ginny prompted when Draco continued to gaze wordlessly at her.

"You look spectacular, love," Draco whispered.

"Thanks to your good taste."

"I am rather good at that sort of thing, aren't I?"

"If I didn't know you better I might think you were a bit camp."

"Perhaps I should just throw you down and ravage you right now?" Draco mused. "Would that prove how manly I am?"

"And miss whatever it is you have planned? No, I think I can wait for the proof."

"Don't say I didn't offer," Draco responded airily. "Shall we?"

"Yes, I think we should, before I forget that I want to know what it is you've been so secretive about."

Draco smirked and led her out of their suite. While he didn't want to rush her today, he did stride down to the foyer at a far quicker pace than he would have if they had time to spare. As they neared the front doors, two house elves opened them to allow the couple to exit their home without pausing.

At the foot of the front stairs an open top, carriage was awaiting them. The two white horses were harnessed to the carriage; they were pawing the ground gently and tossing their heads. A footman waited patiently for the couple to descend the stairs.

"Oh my goodness," Ginny said excitedly.

Draco shooed the footman away with a subtle wave of his hand and offered his own hand to his wife. "My lady."

Ginny giggled as she climbed carefully into the carriage. "Thank you, kind sir."

Draco followed Ginny and the footman closed the door behind him. As he entwined his hand with Ginny's, he thanked the deities that his mother was a genius, who wasn't averse to saving his backside once in a while.

The carriage jerked as it headed off to their mystery destination. They wound their way around the edge of the estate enjoying the dusk scenery. It was, thankfully, a warm evening, with only the gentlest of breezes wafting over the grounds, making it a perfect night for a carriage ride.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see," Draco answered evasively.

"Are we nearly there?"

"Perhaps."

"You're not going to tell me anything, are you?"

"And spoil your surprise? I think not."

Ginny groaned good-naturedly, but didn't voice any further questions.

Draco watched their progress carefully while trying to appear relaxed. Even if he'd wanted to tell Ginny where they were going he couldn't, because he still had no idea. Their route was giving him no clues.

The carriage began to draw further away from the house and head for the far end of the property. Draco hoped the coachman knew where he was going, because as far as he was aware there was nothing but forest from the edge of the manicured lawn to the property line at this end of the estate.

They continued heading straight for the tree line. The closer they got to the enormous oak trees that sat at the edge of the forest the more anxious Draco grew. He was about to call out to the coachman to stop when a road appeared between two of the largest trees. There were trails leading through the forest, but Draco had never noticed a road before. Given that he didn't venture to this end of the property very often it was possible the road had been there all along. Regardless, he made a mental note to ask his father about it when he could. Before long they were traveling down the dirt road that was lined with wild cherry trees. Draco looked ahead and noticed that the road wasn't straight. It was, in fact, an almost constant curve. As they were not headed for imminent danger, he relaxed a little.

Ginny appeared to be enjoying the scenery and she was pointing out all manner of wildlife that dusk had enticed out of hiding, constantly calling his attention to what she spied through the undergrowth. When she saw a deer standing twenty or so feet away from the road they were traveling on, Draco thought she was just about going to jump out of the carriage she was so excited. Of course, at Ginny's first squeal of delight the deer fled, but she was still delighted to have seen one so close up.

Just as he began to wonder again about where the coachman was headed the carriage slowed noticeably. The trees gave way to a picturesque clearing that was bordered on three sides by weeping willows and the forth by the lake. A marquee was set up in the middle of the clearing and under it sat an intimate dinner setting for two. Lanterns decorated the marquee and also hung from trees around the edge of the clearing. The whole effect was magical, especially in the half-light of dusk.

Ginny sighed breathily as Draco climbed down from the carriage. He dismissed the footman and lifted his wife from the carriage himself. When he placed Ginny on her feet she turned in a slow circle, as if trying to take in everything at once. Draco stood back and marveled at how beautiful she looked at that precise moment. Her face was lit up brighter than any candle and the light playing over her hair made it appear as though it were pure gold.

"It's so beautiful here," Ginny whispered.

"I thought you'd like it," Draco murmured, again silently thanking his mother.

"Why haven't you brought me here before?"

"If I'd done that then I wouldn't have had anything special to show you today," Draco replied, gathering her to his chest. "Happy birthday, beautiful."

As Draco captured her mouth he could hear the carriage pulling away. They were now entirely alone at last.

"Thank you," Ginny muttered when they broke for air.

"You're welcome. Now, can I take your cloak?"

"Of course." Ginny turned around in his arms and allowed Draco to slip her cloak off her shoulders.

Draco smiled to himself as he walked into the marquee. His mother had literally thought of everything, including a freestanding cloak rack. He hung Ginny's cloak, and then removed his own and hung that as well. As he turned to return to Ginny, who had wandered closer to the lake, he noticed an ice bucket beside the table. "Would you like a drink?"

"Yes, please."

The moment the offer left his mouth he hoped that his mother had remembered that Ginny couldn't drink at the moment. When he inspected the chilling bottle he realized he shouldn't have worried. Narcissa Malfoy would never mess up such an important detail.

"Sparkling apple cider?" Draco asked.

"Sounds great," Ginny agreed.

Draco filled two long stem champagne glasses with the bronzy liquid and walked over to his wife. "A toast! To my amazing beautiful wife."

Ginny blushed a deep crimson as Draco touched her glass with his. "Thank you. This is just wonderful."

"You're welcome, love. Hungry?"

"I'm starving."

"Excellent." He made a show of offering Ginny his arm for the short walk back to the marquee. Once there, Draco placed his glass on the table and held Ginny's chair out for her in a show of exemplary manners.

Once Ginny was seated, Draco moved around to his chair. He picked up the gold bell on the table and gave it a small tinkle. Before the sound had melted away a servant appeared carrying their first course: a seafood salad.

"This looks amazing," Ginny said as the servant placed her plate in front of her.

"Bon appetite!"

When the finished their salads, Draco rang the bell again. The same servant reappeared and removed their empty dishes. No sooner had the creature departed than it rematerialized again, holding their main courses.

Each plate held a portion of a rack of lamb and fresh vegetables. Draco topped off their glasses and smiled across the table. He couldn't believe how perfect the night was going. There was no way on magical earth that Ginny would ever entertain the notion that he could have forgotten her special day.

"Is your dinner all right?"

"It's perfect."

"Good. Tell me, is there anything special you'd like to do this weekend?"

Ginny swallowed her mouthful of food and shook her head. "We're expected at the Burrow on Sunday for lunch."

"I hadn't forgotten," Draco muttered.

"Oh really?"

"Yes, really." Draco met her amused expression with a smirk. "What about Saturday?"

"I hadn't really thought about it," Ginny admitted.

"Perhaps we can take the children somewhere?" Draco suggested.

"I'm sure they'd like that."

"Have a think about it and see if you can come up with somewhere they might enjoy."

"All right."

They continued eating in silence for a while. Draco was watching Ginny carefully. So far, she appeared very pleased with the arrangements and he hoped it would continue.

"Blackpool," Ginny said suddenly.

Draco looked at her in confusion as her voice interrupted his thoughts.

"On Saturday," Ginny clarified. "The twins have never been, and I'm sure they'd enjoy it."

"Just for the day?"

"Yes, they've never swum in the ocean."

"Okay." Draco smiled. "We'll go to Blackpool on Saturday, as long as you're sure you're up for it."

"Of course I am."

"Just checking. I wouldn't want you to have a miserable time because you're tired."

"I'll be fine, and if I get tired I can sit down for a while," Ginny reasoned.

"All right, we'll go. We haven't been out as a family for a while, so it'll be nice."

"No, we haven't."

Draco cringed. "That's my fault."

"No it's not," Ginny refuted.

"Yes, it is. I used to take you and the twins everywhere, and now we hardly ever go out."

"We simply settled into a normal family lifestyle. People don't go out all the time, you know that."

"I know, but I feel a bit guilty for just—"

"You've got nothing to feel guilty about. I doubt the twins even noticed that we weren't going out as much to begin with, because they were so excited to be living here."

"Still, I feel—"

"And before that their idea of a day out was going shopping in Diagon Alley."

"All right, I'll try to stop feeling so guilty... outwardly anyway."

Ginny grinned wickedly across the table at him. "Good, because talking you down today wasn't exactly in my plans."

"Are you ready for dessert?"

"I might just need a little time for dinner to go down."

"That's fine, take all the time you need." Draco wasn't sorry she suggested waiting a while; his own belt had grown quite tight throughout the meal. "Are you up for some star gazing?"

"Oh yes, they're so bright tonight."

Before he left the table Draco took off his dinner jacket and slung it over his chair. A clever grin graced his features as he spread the thick blanket his mother had thought to include out not far from the bank of the lake. By the time he was satisfied that they were going to be comfortable Ginny was standing just a short distance away, her feet already liberated of her shoes. He helped her to sit down and then went to get their glasses, topping them off before he returned.

"The sky is so alive tonight," Ginny expressed as she accepted her glass.

Draco glanced up once he got settled beside his wife. The sky was cloudless and it seemed as though they could touch the stars if the mood took them. He took a healthy mouthful of sparkling cider and put his glass aside. Ginny appeared mesmerized by the night sky, so when he reached out to touch her arm he did it ever so softly. "I have something else for you," he whispered.

"Oh?"

"It's just something a little more personal that I thought you'd like," Draco explained, picking up the parcel from where he'd furtively hid it when he was spreading the blanket out and passing it to her.

"A new gown isn't personal?"

"This is more so." Draco smiled. "Open it and see if you don't agree."

Ginny grinned at him as she tugged the bow holding the box closed. When the lid had been discarded and the contents of the package exposed she gasped in delight. "They're beautiful."

"I thought you'd like them."

"I do. They're so delicate."

"Well, they're for everyday wear, not special events," Draco clarified. "You don't have anything that you can truly wear on a daily basis, so I considered it was time to rectify that horrid oversight."

"Thank you," Ginny said sincerely, her eyes not leaving the delicate jewelry within the box. A small diamond pendant in the shape of a heart had been strung onto a fine gold chain. The matching bracelet held the same charm captive and the simple gold hoop earrings were anything but pretentious. It was certainly something she could wear everyday without feeling over-decorated.

"You're welcome," Draco whispered. "Now, we should put the lid back on and put it somewhere safe, so we don't forget to take it back to the house with us."

"The lid is right here," Ginny said, picking the hardened piece of cardboard up and placing it over the open box.

"I'll put it in my cloak pocket for safe keeping."

It took him less than a minute to stow the jeweler's box in his cloak and return to the blanket. Ginny was looking out over the lake with a dreamy expression on her face. Draco followed her gaze and he had to admit that the scenery was beautiful. Moonlight was illuminating the surface of the water, making it twinkle just as much as the starry sky. He reached out almost unconsciously and rested his hand on her arm. For as simple as the contact was Draco was enjoying it immensely, and even though it was far from licentious, he found himself gradually becoming aroused. Unable to resist, he began stroking her arm, innocently at first, but then as his fingertips began to accidentally brush the side of her breast occasionally and his blood began to heat up, his attention became more purposeful.

"Do you want to go back to the house?"

"Not yet. It's so peaceful out here," Ginny whispered.

To hide his disappointment Draco didn't respond. Instead he doubled his efforts to get her attention subtly. His fingers began to linger longer on her breast, massaging the soft flesh gently. Unable to help himself, Draco leaned in and began to feast on her neck. If that didn't convey his desires, he was going to have to resort to being blunt, because his pants were becoming a mite uncomfortable, and it had nothing to do with how much he'd eaten at dinner.

Ginny leaned back into him. "Mmm... No wonder you're eager to go back to the house."

"So you want to go now?" Draco said, his voice full of hope.

"No," Ginny answered with a nefarious grin.

While he was distracted with her wicked grin, Draco didn't see one of her hands drift downwards, until he felt the unmistakable pressure of her hand against his pants. That little scrap of recognition was enough to get his blood thundering in a southerly direction. "Let's go back," he said thickly.

Ginny shook her head and met his eyes intently. "Make love to me under the stars."

Thoughts that he was the luckiest man on earth were pushed aside as she pulled him down and kissed him passionately, as if she too had been lying there hardly able to contain her desire to touch him. When her tongue brushed over his, Draco ceased to think at all. The only thing that mattered was the woman who was making his body act like it had never been touched before. Draco caressed the length of her torso, enjoying the feel of her under his hands.

* * *

Sprawled on his back, staring at the starry sky, Draco tried, not for the first time, to steady his breathing. As the world returned to normal, the first thing he noticed was how chilly the air had become. Clothes were certainly going to become a necessity, sooner rather than later, or he was going to be hard pressed to find certain bits of his anatomy.

"Love?" Draco waited for a response, but all he got was an indistinct noise from Ginny, who was lying next to him. "I think we should get dressed."

"Mmm."

"Come on, we don't want to get sick," Draco encouraged, though he didn't make any move to change his position.

"Mmm."

"Don't get comfortable there," he warned.

"Not comfortable," Ginny mumbled. "Stick in my arse."

Draco frowned and rolled his head in her direction. "What?"

"Stick in my arse," she repeated. "Been there the whole time."

"Roll over."

As she rolled onto her side away from him, Draco allowed his hand to wander across the blanket and around the area where her backside had been. It didn't take him long to locate a rather sizable stick lying underneath the blanket.

"Were you laying on that the whole time?"

"Yep."

"Why didn't you say something?"

"Because you would have stopped what you were doing," Ginny reasoned.

Draco closed his eyes and shook his head. He could hear the smirk in her tone. "Come on, you can't lay back on that. If your bum isn't already bruised, it will be before much longer."

"I think it is already."

"Let me take a look," Draco said, reaching for his scattered clothes. His wand was around here somewhere.

"What are you doing?"

"I need my wand," Draco explained, just as his hand found the familiar length of black walnut. "_Lumos_."

Draco sat up and held his wand close to his wife's derriere. He cringed when he saw red welts scattered over her alabaster skin.

"Well?"

"You're going to bruise," Draco predicted seriously.

"Oh well, it was worth it." Ginny rolled back to face him, but adjusted her position, so the offending stick sat between them.

He couldn't argue with her philosophy, because he'd be lying if he said it hadn't been worth it. "It definitely was," he growled lightly as he leaned in to claim her lips.

When they parted Ginny's hand went straight to her backside and began to rub the painful area.

"Sore?"

"Yes." She frowned.

"Allow me." Draco grinned nefariously as he leaned over and kissed her bottom. "All better?"

Ginny giggled hysterically. His hair had tickled her backside and his lips had felt all wrong on that part of her body.

"Just lovely," Draco exclaimed good-humoredly. "I try to 'magic' away your pain and this is the thanks I get for it."

His protest just served to increase her hilarity, and Ginny dissolved into gales of laughter.

Draco huffed with faux indignation and allowed his body to drop back to the blanket with a thud. "Oww!"

"What?"

"Bloody stick," Draco grumbled. "It's going to die! Get up," he ordered.

Ginny lifted herself off the blanket, gathering her dress to hold in front of her, as Draco tore the blanket aside and went in search of the vicious piece of wood.

"There it is!" Draco picked a sizable stick up from the grass and hurled it into the lake.

"Death by drowning... How unpretentious," Ginny commented dryly. "I'd have thought you'd want to watch it burn to a cinder."

"The evil thing would probably spit at me or sent a cinder to burn me," Draco reasoned. "_Nox_."

"Of course, it could wash back to shore this way," Ginny commented.

"If it does, then I'll burn it at the stake... Like a stake," Draco said with finality.

Ginny burst into fresh laughter. The expression on her husband's face was so serious that she couldn't help herself. Merlin help that stick if it ever showed it's pointy ends around here again.

"Shall we head back to the house?" Draco suggested.

"What about dessert? I'm feeling rather peckish now."

"Dessert it is then! I'll summon a servant."

"You might want to put your pants on first," Ginny replied, eyeing his naked form amusedly. "You wouldn't want to scar him for life or anything."

"Oh you're so funny," Draco retorted. "What happened to post-coital lethargy?"

"That's what you men suffer from," Ginny pointed out as she stepped into her dress and pulled it up her body. "Women find sex invigorating."

Draco, who had been picking his pants up from the ground, immediately swung around and gave Ginny his full attention. "Really?"

"Yes." Ginny laughed at his earnest expression. "While you're snoring your—"

"I _don't_ snore."

"As I was saying, while you're _snoring_ your head off, I'm generally wide awake."

"I had no idea."

"I know. You never stayed awake long enough to find out what I do."

"You _do_ go to sleep right away sometimes," Draco insisted.

"Sometimes, but only when I'm absolutely exhausted. Most of the time I'm awake for a while." Ginny walked towards him and turned around. "Can you zip me up?"

Draco frowned at her as he did as she asked. The old adage that you learn something new everyday occurred to him, but he was at a loss to explain how he'd missed this little morsel of information over the years. He wondered if all women suffered from this affliction, or if it was something that was unique to his wife.

Ginny turned around and eyed her still naked husband up and down. "Are you putting on pants or are you going to terrorize the servants?"

"Pants," Draco mumbled.

"Good, because the last thing I want to do tonight is deal with complaints from the house elves."

"As if—" Draco stopped when he saw her overly amused expression. He smirked at her as he closed the distance between them, taking her in his arms the moment he could. "Just because it's your birthday does not mean you get to be cheeky."

"Me? I wasn't being cheeky." Ginny grinned up at him with mischief dancing in her eyes. "I was being truthful."

Draco groaned and dropped his forehead onto hers. "You are being very wicked this evening."

"And you love it."

"You know—" Draco stroked her backside suggestively. "I might have to give you something to keep you entertained until you fall asleep."

"Oh?"

"Yes, I don't think I should trust you to behave yourself while I go to sleep."

She cackled evilly at that suggestion, and Draco knew he'd be in trouble if he even thought about drifting off before she was sound asleep.

"I think you should put your pants on now."

Draco stepped away from her, found his pants again, and then went in search of his boxers. While he was doing that Ginny retrieved his shirt and held it out ready for him. Within a couple of minutes, Draco had pulled his boxers and pants up his legs, and slipped his arms into his shirt. "Where did my shoes disappear to?"

"I don't know," Ginny admitted. "They can't have gone far."

Draco cast his eyes around the immediate area.

Ginny pointed to in the direction of the lake. "There's my knickers!"

Draco looked at his wife incredulously. "You're not wearing knickers?"

Ginny shrugged as she picked the lacey scrap of fabric up. "I couldn't find them."

"Merlin save me," Draco muttered under his breath. "Are you missing anything else?"

"Nope, I've got everything else." Ginny pointed to the neat pile of clothing and shoes beside the blanket. "There's one of your shoes."

Draco wandered over to the lone shoe and picked it up. It always amazed him that no matter how often you put your shoes together when you took them off they always separated somehow. He was sure you could chain them together and one of them would worm its way out to hide somewhere. A few feet away from the first, Draco found his second shoe and retrieved it quickly. "Would you like to return to the table?"

"No, I think I'd like to sit here," Ginny responded, indicating the blanket that was now sitting in a messy pile.

"Fine." Draco spread the blanket out again and assisted his wife to sit down before returning to the table to ring the golden bell that would bring a servant to his side.

"Master would like dessert now?"

"Yes," Draco snapped. "Ginny, do you want some tea?"

"Yes, please."

"Bring a pot of tea and a decanter of Firewhisky as well."

"As Master wishes." The servant gathered the dirty dinner dishes and then Disapparated.

Before Draco had walked back to Ginny, the house elf Apparated into the clearing again, balancing a large tray in its twisted hands. As the creature walked toward the blanket the tray floated just to the side of him.

"Just leave the tray here," Ginny said. "I'll serve."

"Yes, Mistress." The house elf allowed the tray to sink to the grass gently and then the creature disappeared again.

"This looks scrumptious!" Ginny announced, noticing the servings of strawberry tiramisu and a plate of chocolate dipped strawberries.

Draco's mouth had begun to water the moment the sweet treat came into view. Anything that contained lethal quantities of sugar was still one of his greatest weaknesses. He made his way over to the tray and poured himself a Firewhisky while Ginny busied herself with the teapot, then he made himself comfortable beside her and tried not to appear impatient. The idea that she may drink an entire cup of tea before passing his dessert to him occurred to him briefly, but then she put her teacup down and reached for their desserts.

"Thank you," Draco murmured as he accepted the plate. It was probably a good thing this was a private dinner, because if Narcissa had seen the amount of tiramisu that Draco tried to put in his mouth at once she would have had a fit. "This is so good," he uttered through a mouthful of cream and cake.

Ginny swallowed and agreed with him wholeheartedly, though she did wonder when he'd adopted Ron's eating habits. "Strawberry?"

"Love one."

Draco held his plate out ready for the berry, but Ginny bypassed the plate and held the fruit up to his lips. A wicked grin made his lips twitch just before he opened his mouth and devoured the strawberry right up to the green leafy stem. A groan of sheer delight escaped him as the chocolate melted on his tongue and the natural sugars were released from the ripe berry.

"I take it they're good," Ginny commented with a smirk.

"Heavenly," Draco confirmed. "You should try one."

"Oh, I intend on trying more than one," Ginny teased. She knew how much Draco liked strawberries, and the fact that there were only six in total meant he was probably going to be a bit disappointed or taking a trip to the kitchen before bed.

"Allow me," Draco insisted as he leaned over and took a strawberry off the plate.

He tantalized her lips with the treat for a few moments, dragging it slowly across her mouth, and then pulling it away just as she opened her mouth. After several attempts to bite the strawberry, Ginny growled and grabbed his wrist, holding it still while she consumed the chocolate covered delight. "Mmm... I could die happy right about now."

"Don't let me stop you." Draco smiled gleefully as his hand snuck across her lap to the plate.

"Oh, no you don't!" Ginny slapped his hand away from the plate quickly. "I fully intend on finishing _my_ share of the strawberries."

"If you get full you can count on me to make sure there's no waste," Draco said earnestly.

"I'm sure I can," Ginny informed him as she transferred two berries to his plate. "Here's your two."

Draco looked hopefully at her. "Only two?"

"That leaves two for me," she answered, before biting into one.

"Well, I suppose that's all right."

A smile played around Ginny's lips and her eyes were full of mischief. "Are you going to sulk?"

"I never sulk!"

"Except when you do," Ginny said casually, taking another mouthful of tiramisu.

Draco muttered his defense under his breath and then consoled himself by finishing off his strawberries before returning to his tiramisu.

When Ginny finished her dessert she put her plate back on the tray and sat back. "I don't know if I'm ready for bed or I need to work off all that sugar."

"I can think of something that would allow you to work off all that raw energy in bed," Draco said in a wicked tone.

"Again?"

"Just a suggestion."

Ginny stifled a yawn. "I'll take it into consideration and get back to you."

"For now, I think we should tucking you into bed before you fall asleep here."

"That sounds like a good idea," Ginny agreed. Now that she'd given into the temptation to yawn once she didn't seem to be able to stop, and it was magnifying her general feeling of weariness.

"Right then, I'll collect our things and summon the servants to clean up," Draco announced, getting to his feet and striding towards the table.

Once again, the tinkle of the bell brought a servant to his side without delay. He gave the creature the order to clear away for the night and picked up his jacket, along with their cloaks, then returned to Ginny. She was already on her feet, holding the clothing and shoes they'd had with them on the blanket.

"Give me those," Draco said, taking everything from his wife. "You just get yourself back to the house."

"I can—"

"Well, you're not and if you argue I'll sulk."

Ginny giggled lightly and gave up her disputing the point. "I'll see you in the house then?"

"I'm right behind you." Draco waited until Ginny had Disapparated before following suite.

They Apparated into the foyer of the large house, and then walked together to their wing. Draco dropped what was in his arms by the door of their suite before following Ginny into the twins' rooms to check on them. Both children were sleeping soundly, a fact he thanked the deities for, because he was sure they both looked a sight with their disheveled clothes and bare feet. After placing soft kisses on Drake and Angel's foreheads they retreated to their own rooms. Draco picked up their possessions on the way into their chambers and strode straight through to the bedchamber to empty his arms.

Ginny had paused in their sitting room, noticing a large box on the coffee table. "Draco, what's this?"

"What's what, love?" he called from the bedchamber.

"It looks like another gift."

Draco walked to the doorway and leaned on the doorframe nonchalantly. "Open it then. You're the birthday girl."

"Where did it come from?"

"I don't know." Draco shrugged.

"Draco?" Ginny prompted, obviously not believing his claim.

"I honestly have no idea where that came from or who it might be from, so why don't you just open it."

"You don't?"

"No, I don't." He walked over to stand next to his wife. "Just open it and see who it's from."

"All right then," Ginny answered uncertainly.

Draco watched as she removed the large bow and lifted the lid off the box. On top of what appeared to be several large leather bound volumes was a letter. Ginny picked it up and he watched her excitement grow in her eyes as she read its contents.

"It's our wedding photos," she told him, handing the parchment over and picking up the first volume.

Draco scanned the missive quickly.

_Draco and Ginevra,_

_I have a confession to make: It was I who delayed the delivery of your wedding photos, so I could have the portrait done without any chance of its existence being accidentally passed on to you. I have had these in my possession for quite some weeks, and it is now time for me to pass them on. I took the liberty of ordering a print of every photograph taken on the day, and Mr. Creevey has been advised that you will more than likely be ordering some larger prints for framing at some stage. Please accept my apologies for the delay, and I hope you understand why it was necessary._

_Father_

"Well, at least we've got them now," Draco commented as he put the note aside and picked up the second volume.

"Yes," Ginny answered absently as her fingers ran over a photograph of them and the twins.

Draco closed the book and replaced it in the box. "Are you going to stay up all night looking at photographs or are you coming to bed?"

Ginny looked at the six volumes in the box and then at Draco. "I should probably get some sleep."

"That's a good idea," Draco concurred. "We can take some time tomorrow to go through them and decide which ones we want enlarged for the walls."

"Mum will want some as well."

"We can take the albums on Sunday if you like or you can visit her before that, and she can pick which ones she likes, so we can order them for her," Draco said as he took the volume from Ginny's hands and put it back in the box. "Come on."

Ginny took his offered hand and rose from the chair, yawning widely as she did.

"Do you think you can make it to bed without falling asleep?"

"I don't know."

Draco quickly scooped her up in his arms, before she could voice any opposition. "Let's not take any chances then."

Any complaints Ginny may have wanted to voice died on her tongue when she found herself completely comfortable in her husband's arms. She buried her head in his neck and let him carry her into their bedchamber. A small pang of disappointment flared in her as Draco placed her gently on the edge of their large bed.

"Let's get you ready for bed," Draco whispered authoritatively.

"I'm quite capable—"

"Allow me," Draco insisted as he reached around and unzipped her dress. "You'll have to stand up for a bit."

Ginny did as she was told, and Draco slid her gown down her body, steadying her with one hand as she stepped out of it.

"Do you want pajamas?"

"No, I think I'll just get into bed like this."

Draco couldn't hide his delighted grin. "Excellent."

Ginny sent him a look that would have dissolved the grin off any other man's face, but Draco just leered at her even more and quirked his eyebrows. She shook her head and climbed into bed, finding herself very comfortable the moment her head hit the pillow.

On his way around to his side of the bed, Draco stripped his shirt off, dropping it to the floor and then paused to take his pants down. Once divested of his clothes, he climbed between the sheets and gathered his wife in his arms. She was too tired for any further activity this evening, but perhaps the morning might bring him a special treat before he headed into the office.

"Did you enjoy tonight?" he asked softly.

"It was wonderful," Ginny responded, turning in his embrace to face him. "Thank you. It was the best birthday I've ever had."

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself." Draco kissed the top of her head and smiled when she snuggled into his chest.

Ginny was asleep in no time, but Draco remained awake for a while, just listening to her even breathing and wondering how he got so lucky. A year ago he had thought his life was perfect, but now he could see that it was far from it. He had come to realize that he had nothing of importance back then, and now he had everything. His thoughts began to grow heavy as his eyelids drifted closed. There was just one more thing he wished he had: the heart to disturb Ginny, so her hair would stop tickling his manly bits.

* * *

_**AUTHORS NOTES**_

_Huge thanks to Rainpuddle13 for her sensational beta skills and plot discussions._


	13. Nightmarish Qualities

**_Disclaimer_**_: I don't own any of the characters you may recognize from the wonderful world of Harry Potter, they all belong to the revered JK Rowling; I just like to play with them a little._

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

** NIGHTMARISH QUALITIES**

Draco took a deep breath as he surveyed the scene before him. His children, the traitors, had taken off into the sea of redheads the moment their feet touched the ground, and the same sea of redheads was slowly swallowing his wife. If he could just make it to the table without being attacked by an over-excited redhead he'd be happy. That, of course, was a challenge, but if he walked at just the right pace and didn't make eye contact with any of them he should make it. Before trying his luck, Draco examined the large group to ascertain which would be the safest side to pass. It terrified him a little to realize that this wasn't the whole family. After determining that it was probably better to stay as far away from the kitchen door as he could, due to the constant comings and goings through it, Draco strode off at a measured pace.

"Oi, Malfoy, you owe us dinner!"

Draco stopped his journey, cursed mentally and frowned across the yard at his youngest brother-in-law. "What?"

"You promised us dinner and you didn't deliver," Ron elaborated as he strode across to Draco.

"No, I didn't."

Ron folded his arms over his chest like a petulant child. "Yeah, you did."

"Thursday night," Harry clarified.

Draco frowned. "That was Ginny's birthday."

"And you were organizing a dinner party for that night," Ron reminded him. "Remember?"

"Our plans changed," Draco hissed. "Shut it."

"What's this about a dinner party?" Ginny asked.

"We ran into Draco at lunchtime, and he said he was going to organize a dinner party for your birthday," Ron told her.

Ginny frowned. This was the first she'd heard about a dinner party. "What day was this?"

"Thursday."

"Don't be ridiculous," Ginny scoffed. "No one can organize a dinner party in a few hours."

"Well, if he'd remembered—"

"Weasley," Draco snarled viciously.

"Remembered what?" Ginny asked, looking between the two men.

Draco narrowed his eyes on Ron, daring him to answer honestly and suffer the consequences.

"Good to see you're still breathing, Draco," Fred said, slapping his only brother-in-law on the back.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Draco inquired haughtily before he could engage his brain and get his mouth to shut up.

"Ron said you for—"

"Is there anyone you didn't tell?" Draco snarled at Ron, effectively cutting Fred off before he could spill the beans.

"Yeah, well I didn't tell Percy."

"Tell me what?" Percy asked, joining the growing gathering.

"Draco forgot Ginny's birthday," George supplied.

Percy started to chuckle to himself. "And he's still standing?"

"Miracle in itself, that is," Fred pointed out.

"Could be because she didn't find out," Harry mentioned, noticing the look Ginny was now giving her husband. "Until now."

Draco took a few steps away from the group. "Why don't I just go around the other side of the house and do away with myself?"

George looked at the blond in confusion. "Why would you do that?"

"Because that way none of you will get any pleasure from my demise," Draco hissed.

"You_really_ forgot?" Ginny asked, disbelief clear in her tone.

Draco closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. The moment of truth had arrived. It occurred to him, very briefly, that it would be less painful if she just hexed him and got it over with. When he opened his eyes she was standing right in front of him with a pained expression on her face that was bordering on hurt. "I didn't mean to, love. We've been so busy, and I lost track of the date by a week. I really wanted to make your birthday special, and I think I did manage to do that for you, at least that's the impression I got on Thursday night."

"You did," she whispered. "I just can't believe you did all of that in such a short time."

"I had a little help," Draco admitted reluctantly.

Ginny raised an eyebrow at him. "Let me guess? Your mother?"

"I told Mother what I wanted to do for you, and she talked me out of it, because she thought you'd appreciate a private celebration given how busy we've been lately," Draco explained. "Then she offered to help me plan the perfect evening for you."

Ginny nodded slowly. "Did you do anything?"

"I bought your gifts," Draco replied in a whisper, feeling thoroughly ashamed of himself for taking the credit for his mother's hard work.

"Anything else?"

"No, Mother arranged everything else."

"I see."

Draco waited for what seemed an age for her to say something else, anything else. He'd have settled for a curse or a painful hex right about now, because it would have been less torturous than standing there watching a multitude of emotions flow over her face. A glance over Ginny's head told him even more family members had joined the audience. They were talking in hushed tones, but not so low that he couldn't make out what they were saying.

"What's going on?" Bill asked.

"Shh, she's about to kill him," Ron whispered excitedly.

An expression of interest passed over Charlie's face. "Why?"

"He forgot her birthday," George supplied.

Charlie nodded. "I know. Ron told me."

"How did she find out?" Bill asked curiously.

"Ron." George chuckled to himself. "He can't hold his water."

"What? Don't look at me like that!" Ron protested. "I didn't mean to."

"What are we going to do if she does kill him?" Charlie inquired.

Ron shrugged. "Dig a hole?"

"Remind me to tell Pansy next time he forgets something important," Bill murmured.

"Yeah, last time I'll help him to put things right, so she doesn't kill him," Charlie mentioned, giving his youngest brother a look of disgust.

"Nice to know I can rely on my brothers," Ron grumbled.

"Looks like we can't rely on you," Bill pointed out.

"He's not... In-law... he's a _bloody_ in-law!"

"Dare you to say that around Mum," Fred challenged.

Ron looked at his brothers incredulously. "Do I _look_ suicidal?"

Draco refocused his attention on his wife, who still seemed to be struggling with her emotions. Whether or not Ron was feeling suicidal today was irrelevant, though he rather hoped the man had tendencies, because it would save him the trouble of killing him later. At least he knew he had Bill and Charlie for support. He just hoped it extended to saving his life if Ginny decided to follow through with that murderous glare that kept flicking across her eyes.

"Say something, please," Draco pleaded, unable to tolerate her silence any longer.

"I don't know what to say," Ginny whispered.

"You did have a nice night, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"Then does it really matter that I didn't remember until Ron and Harry reminded me?"

"It's not that."

Draco sighed. He knew where this was leading. "Mother?"

She nodded.

"I was at work, love. As it was, I dropped everything to find you gifts that I thought you'd appreciate. It took me most of the afternoon to do that. Mother made the offer and I accepted, but only because I wanted it to be a special night for you, and I knew she'd do her utmost to make sure it was perfect." Draco paused, not only to catch his breath, but also to see if she had anything to say about his reasons so far. He knew he was embellishing the truth a little, even now, but if she knew he'd gone running to his mother for help there was no way she'd forgive him. "If you'd like a party or a fancy dinner party with your friends, then I'm more than willing to arrange that for you. All you have to do is say the word."

"No," she uttered.

"The offer is there if you change your mind." Draco bravely reached out and stroked her cheek. "Love, would you have had any idea that you married someone with an appalling memory if Ron hadn't tattled on me today?"

"No, everything appeared as though it had been arranged for weeks."

"One of Mother's many talents." Draco grinned hopefully at her. "Nothing ever appears last minute with her."

"I just wish you'd told me."

"I didn't want to spoil your day."

Ginny nodded her understanding.

Draco noticed her expression starting to soften. "Am I forgiven for being a forgetful prat?"

"You're forgiven." Ginny smiled gently.

"I promise I won't ever forget an important date again," Draco muttered as he leaned down to seal his vow with a kiss.

Ginny looked at him skeptically, but didn't bother to dispute his promise. "I have to get to the lav."

"Hurry back," Draco encouraged as she rushed off in the direction of the house.

Before Ginny had reached the door the other men had gathered around him, all with disbelief written on their faces.

"How did you get out of that?" Fred asked with admiration.

"I promised to never forget another important date again."

Bill cringed. "Making promises you can't keep?"

"You know the next time you forget something she's going to pay out double on you," Charlie informed him.

"I can keep such promises," Draco stated confidently. "I'll simply supply my secretary with a list of dates I need to remember and instruct her to begin daily reminders a fortnight prior."

George slapped Draco on the shoulder. "You know, you should be thanking Merlin that you're still breathing."

Draco's gaze wandered over the men, turning icy the moment he came across the one person responsible for his pain. "No thanks to someone."

"Yeah, well..." Ron fidgeted on the spot before lifting his chin and meeting Draco's stormy gray eyes. "You still owe me dinner."

"Somehow, I think he'd let you starve to death before feeding you again," Bill said, giving his youngest brother a pitiful look.

Charlie cleared his throat to garner everyone's attention. "Now that the crisis has been averted, I think we should take the time to celebrate Ginny's birthday properly."

Draco looked at Charlie incredulously.

"Awful thirsty work watching you worm your way out of trouble," Charlie explained with a cheeky grin and a hearty slap to Draco's shoulder. "Mead?"

Draco nodded absently and followed the men to the table. The women were already starting to place large platters of food along the table. A few of them sent him disappointed looks, and he tried his best to keep his features stoical, because he had a feeling that if he showed just an ounce of guilt it would be open season.

Charlie placed a bottle of Mead in front of Draco with a generous tumbler of Firewhisky next to it. "Get that into you. You still look a bit pale."

"You're fighting a losing battle there, Charlie," Harry said.

"Yeah, don't waste good booze on him. He's always pale," Ron added.

"Perhaps we should reconsider _your_ share of the booze this afternoon?" Bill pondered aloud. "After all, you did commit an unforgivable."

Ron looked affronted. "I paid for the booze today!"

"So?" Fred posed.

George sniggered, and then added, "It doesn't mean we're going to let you have any."

"I don't believe this! I'm your _brother_ ... your _blood_. And you lot are siding with _him_." Ron threw his arms in the air and stomped into the house, almost colliding with Angelina as she entered the yard with a stack of plates.

"What on earth is going on?" Angelina demanded.

"Too easy," Fred said gleefully.

"He's such fun to play with," George added.

"Are you two tormenting Ron?" Angelina asked sternly, looking directly at the twins.

"Us?" George looked innocently at his sister-in-law.

"Would we do that, darling?" Fred asked his wife.

Angelina's gaze sharpened on the two known troublemakers.

"That's just lovely," Fred expressed, shaking his head in disgust.

"Haven't you heard of innocent until proven guilty?" George huffed.

Fred nodded emphatically. "Just because Ickle Ronnikens goes running to you lot—"

George held his hands up to his eyes dramatically. "Sobbing his heart out—"

"Doesn't mean we did anything," Fred concluded.

"For goodness sakes, stop talking like that! You know I hate it." Angelina held her hands to her head and glared at her husband and his troublesome twin.

"You'd think—"

"She'd be—"

"Used to it—"

"By now."

The twins burst into laughter as the back door slammed behind an infuriated Angelina.

"You two are either very brave or brain dead," Bill said gravely.

"She'll get over it," Fred told him confidently.

George nodded his agreement. "And if she doesn't, Fred will just have to give her a little tickle to distract her."

"Oi! There's nothing little about my tickle."

"I think a change of subject is in order," Percy expressed.

"Please," Bill uttered, turning his eyes to the sky, as if begging.

"There's nothing little about mine either!" George stated, standing up and reaching for his belt.

Fred immediately followed suit, determined to prove his size as well.

"Put them away!" Pansy ordered as she all but slammed a bowl of salad onto the table. "There are women and children here, and we have no desire to see what you have lurking in your pants."

The twins sat down again, not willing to risk their lives, given her dangerous tone.

"Right now, you." Pansy poked Draco in the shoulder. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself for blaming Ron for your pitiful memory."

"I assure you, Pansy, I do not and did not blame Ron for my lapse in memory." Draco kept his voice even and controlled, because he knew she would have only been supplied with half the story. "I do, however, blame him for Ginny finding out."

"Draco, this whole situation is your fault," Pansy pointed out. "If you hadn't forgotten in the first place there wouldn't be a problem."

"I know," Draco hissed.

"Well, why are you blaming Ron?"

"Regardless of anything he may have told you, Ginny was completely happy and totally unaware of my gaffe until _he_ opened his mouth. So, he is solely responsible for upsetting my wife."

"Do you mean to tell me that after her birthday you didn't think to tell her of your near miss?"

"Do I look stupid?"

"Looks can be deceptive," Pansy sniped as she flounced back to the house.

"That was a bit rough," Fred commented.

Draco shrugged, not all that bothered by anything Pansy had said. "She's all bark."

Charlie looked at the back door with concern etched on his handsome features. "Depends on what a certain little brother is telling her."

"I might put a stop to this before he gets us all in trouble," Bill announced.

"You don't have to on my account," Draco said.

"It's not for you," Bill assured him. "God only knows who's hearing what in there."

"If we're not careful Mum will be out here boxing our ears in before we know it," Charlie reminded everyone.

"Or Dad," George noted as a not too happy Arthur entered the yard.

"Right, you lot, I want you to cut it out now," Arthur said sternly, planting his hands on the end of the table. "The women are starting to get restless, and it's only a matter of time before they start looking for some blood to spill."

"It's not our fault," Fred countered.

"Ron was the one who got Draco in trouble," George supplied.

"Be that as it may, Ron is in there telling anyone who will listen that you're a bunch of prats and why."

Fred looked horrified. "Dirty rotten—"

"Traitor!" George snarled.

"Dad, Bill's gone into straighten him out," Charlie said. "We had a feeling he was telling a few tales when Pansy came out."

Arthur shook his head. "You know you could have ribbed him all you liked, but to refuse him a drink—"

"We were joking, and he took off before—" Charlie sighed. "Well, before he figured it out."

Arthur shook his head. "It was a low blow."

The men all looked at each other, but kept their silence and no one met the Weasley patriarch's eyes.

"You all know how stressed he is at the moment, and when he's like that he has a tendency to over-react." Arthur looked at each of the men as he spoke.

"That isn't our problem," Percy pointed out coldly.

"Perhaps not, but you are his brothers, so you're _expected_ to be supportive." By his tone, Arthur Weasley did more than expect support from his sons for their brothers.

Percy snorted. "Like he's supportive of us?"

Arthur pinned his third son with an uncharacteristic hard look. "You know, as well as anyone, that Ron would give you the shirt off his back if you needed it."

Charlie stood up, grabbed three bottles of Mead and headed inside.

A small smile played around Arthur's lips. On the rare occasion that he had reason to take his boys to task it never took too long to get them to see reason.

"Draco, did you manage to sort out your trouble with Ginny without this lot sticking their two Knuts worth in?" Arthur asked, sitting in the chair Bill had previously occupied.

"Yes, I think so."

"You might want to make certain that's the case when you get a chance, because with the women getting all hot under the collar she could very well arc up again, and you'll be back at square one without even realizing."

"Thanks." Draco smiled tightly at his father-in-law.

"You're welcome," Arthur answered casually and smiled.

Draco rolled his eyes and groaned to himself. He could really string Ron up by his toes for this. At that moment, the man in question walked back into the yard flanked by his two oldest brothers, looking a little uncomfortable in the eyes, though his body posture was relaxed.

"Come and sit down, Ron," George invited enthusiastically.

"There's a seat right here for you, little brother," Fred pointed out.

"If you two think I'm sitting between you then you're barking mad," Ron snapped.

George sniffed affectedly. "Nice to be trusted."

"I trust you," Fred assured him.

"Thank you, Fred." George embraced his twin. "I have one brother who loves me."

"Give it a rest," Ron demanded grumpily, as he sat next to Harry. "I don't want to lose my appetite."

"Is that possible?" Draco asked dubiously.

"Yeah," Ron answered defensively. "Occasionally."

"I'll believe it when I see it," Draco muttered.

"Don't worry about it too much," Charlie said. "I doubt any of us will live to see the day."

All of a sudden the yard filled with people. The women were all arranging food on the table, except for Ginny, who was told repeatedly to sit down. Just as the last of the platters hit the table the children emerged from the back field. It was as if they had some sort of sixth sense.

"Eat up, everyone. Come on, while it's hot," Molly encouraged. "Draco dear, Ginny told me what you did for her birthday."

Draco braced himself for a telling off. "Oh?"

Molly smiled sweetly and kissed the top of his head. "Well done. She said it was her best birthday ever."

"I—err—" Draco cleared his throat lightly and gathered his thoughts. Molly's words were the last thing he expected. "Thank you."

Bill frowned down the table at the blond wizard. "What did you do?"

Draco glanced at the other end of the table where the women were gathered. "I'll tell you later."

"I'll hold you to that," Bill promised.

Draco acknowledged him with a confident tilt of his chin. With Molly's words still ringing in his ears, Draco was convinced, when he explained what he did for their sister, they'd all be impressed.

Lunch was the normal fare for a birthday meal, though Draco could tell that his sisters-in-law had helped with the cooking, because not everything tasted as good as it usually did when Molly cooked everything. Conversations at the men's end of the table were confined to safe subjects and making Ron feel better for reasons unbeknown to Draco, but which he made a note to discover.

The men sat back, letting their lunch digest as the women cleared the table and the children ran off to play again. More than one of them had an infant in his arms, so conversations were somewhat subdued for the time being. Angel wandered up, eyeing each of the men carefully before making a beeline for her godfather.

"Hello, princess," Harry expressed as he lifted the strawberry blonde witch onto his knee.

"Hello, Uncle Harry," Angel responded in a bored tone.

"Are you having fun with your cousins?" Harry inquired.

"I suppose." A glint of excitement suddenly lit up her gray eyes. "Guess what we did yesterday?"

"Let's see... you cleaned the stables?"

Angel looked positively aghast. "No."

"Oh." Harry appeared to think deeply for a short while. "You painted the manor purple?"

The little witch rolled her eyes expressively. "No."

"You'd better tell me then," Harry said.

"Daddy took us to Blackpool!"

"That is exciting," Harry exclaimed for his goddaughter's benefit. "Did you go for a swim?"

"Yep, and the beach was really crowded, and I had to hold onto Daddy really tight."

Harry couldn't help but look across at Draco, who had a smirk on his face that suggested his daughter was telling the entire truth. "You do have to hang on tight when you're in the ocean."

"The water tasted funny too." Angel's nose wrinkled in disgust at the memory. "I like our lake better."

Harry nodded seriously. "What else did you do?"

"We went to the zoo and saw the animals," Angel informed him earnestly. "And we had lunch with the Muggles."

"Really?" Harry looked a little disbelieving at that last claim. After all, Draco Malfoy was hardly known for his tolerance of non-magical people.

Angel nodded ardently. "It was fun."

"I'm sure it was," Harry uttered.

"I'm going to play with Courtney now," Angel announced, sliding off Harry's lap.

Harry frowned. "Just Courtney?"

"Britany's being nasty." The little girl sniffed affectedly before turning on her heel and disappearing into the house.

Harry shook his head as the back door slammed closed behind her. "What's the real story?" he asked Draco.

"She was terrified of the ocean and ended up getting a lung full of seawater, then refused to go back in," Draco responded.

Harry laughed. "That sounds more like the Angel we know."

"Are you boys playing Quidditch?" Hermione asked.

"That's a silly question," Fleur commented.

"I know, but they might surprise us one day," Hermione responded.

"There haven't been any reports of hell freezing over," Ginny quipped.

Charlie sat up straight in his chair, looking like a conscientious student. "To confirm your thoughts, ladies, we are playing this afternoon, so if you'd like to see a most excellent display of athleticism—"

"We'll go elsewhere," Anya interrupted.

"Just lovely," Charlie expressed. "You torture yourself every Sunday squeezing into your school Quidditch britches and your own wife doesn't even appreciate your efforts," Charlie said, mostly to himself.

"You wish you could still fit into your school britches, Charlie Weasley," Anya retorted.

"Now there's a vision that would send us running in the opposite direction!" Ginny quipped.

The women erupted into laughter.

Charlie huffed and tossed his nose in the air. "I'm going to get changed."

"I'll join you," Draco said, making his way towards the house.

Charlie stopped at the doorway. "Anya love, do you know where my gear is?"

"It's sitting on the end of the bed."

"Thank you."

While Charlie had blocked the entry into the house, most of the other men had joined him in a quest to change for the game, so there was quite a queue behind him when he finally entered the house.

Draco picked up his Quidditch gear from the front room, where Ginny had left it for him, and headed upstairs, looking for somewhere to change. With Charlie and Anya staying here at the moment, he didn't feel it proper to enter a room they or their children were using during their stay. He wandered up to the second floor, keeping a keen ear out for any sign of the other men.

"Draco!"

Startled a little, Draco turned in the direction of the voice.

"You can change in here," Charlie said, sticking his head out a door.

"Thanks, I wasn't sure what rooms you were using."

"Anya's not likely to come up at the moment, so we're safe," Charlie assured him.

Draco entered the bedroom to find Bill standing by the window in his boxers and Charlie pealing his shirt off by the bed. Draco placed his things on the end of the bed and started undressing.

"What do you think Ron's going to do?" Bill asked.

"Don't know, but Pansy's going to rip him a new one if doesn't make a decision soon," Charlie advised.

Bill nodded seriously. "I think he's mad for even thinking about it."

"What's wrong with him?" Draco asked curiously.

Bill and Charlie exchanged a look that Draco couldn't quite decipher and Charlie nodded.

"We're glad you asked, Draco," Bill started. "You might just be the right person to get our little brother to see sense."

Draco quirked an eyebrow curiously. "About?"

"Pansy's father wants to give them a house, and Ron is being stubborn about accepting the offer," Bill supplied.

"The thing is, Pansy's getting a bit antsy with the baby due in a couple of months and the fact that they don't have anywhere to live," Charlie added.

Draco looked at the men skeptically. "And you think I could convince him?"

Bill sighed. "We've all tried."

"You could tell him that it's a tradition for the parents to house their kids in family properties," Charlie suggested.

Draco shrugged. "It is in most cases, but it's usually the groom's family who take on that responsibility. Though, I can see why the Parkinsons made the offer." Draco looked around the room he was standing in. "There's no way he'd be able to afford to house Pansy the way she's accustomed to."

"We just think it's too good an offer to refuse," Charlie admitted.

"They'd be set for life," Bill pointed out.

"I agree. It's how families like mine retain our wealth." Draco smiled as confusion logged on both men's faces. "We own properties, and they've been owned for generations, so we never have to worry about housing costs."

"What about maintenance?" Bill asked.

"House elves." Draco smirked.

The surprised expression on Charlie's face was unmistakable. "He'd get a house elf in the bargain?"

"Probably not. I can't see Parkinson being that generous," Draco determined.

"So, you'll talk to him?" Bill prompted sanguinely.

Draco sighed and looked at the two men. He was sure if anyone stuck their head into the room they'd wonder what was going on, because they were all standing there in their boxers looking expectantly at one another. "I'll try, but he'll probably tell me to piss off."

"It's not like you listen to him, so just pay no attention to him," Charlie said with a broad grin.

Bill rubbed his neck, looking a little uncomfortable for a moment. "Just do one more thing for us—"

Draco braced himself. "What?"

"Make sure he knows it wasn't Pansy who asked you to talk to him," Bill continued.

"All right," Draco agreed slowly.

"She doesn't need the grief he'd serve her at the moment," Charlie explained.

"Apart from refusing Parkinson's offer, has he done anything to secure housing for them?" Draco inquired.

"Yeah, he's been looking at a couple of places, but according to Pansy they're dumps," Bill supplied.

Draco nodded thoughtfully as he pulled his britches up over his thighs.

"I went past one of them," Charlie said. "Just so you know, Pansy's not being fussy. The place was a dump."

"That answered my next question," Draco replied. "Don't Aurors make pretty good money?"

Bill nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, but the property market is booming."

"So it's becoming—" Charlie started.

"Unaffordable for the average wizard," Draco finished.

"Yeah and rental prices are going through the roof as well, not that it matters, because he's got it into his head that he _has_ to buy a place," Bill added.

"Look I'll try, but I doubt he'll listen to me," Draco agreed.

"Thanks," Bill replied.

"Are you three coming or should we give you a bit longer?" Fred asked cheekily from the door.

"We're coming," Charlie answered.

"We just had a chat with Draco," Bill informed him.

Fred looked expectantly at his older brothers. "He going to talk to him then?"

Charlie grinned. "Yes."

"Good stuff." Fred nodded in Draco's direction. "Knew we could count on you."

"I'll try," Draco mumbled, suddenly feeling as though the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

"Harry!" Fred bellowed down the hall. "Draco's going to talk to your stubborn, pig-headed mate."

"Excellent! Merlin knows I've run out of words." Harry poked his head around the doorframe. "Just one word of advice: when he tells you to piss off, ignore him and keep talking."

"I'll keep that in mind," Draco uttered as he pulled his boots on.

"He's really only waiting for the right person to talk him into it, because deep down he wants the big house, but he knows he'll never be able to do it on his own."

Draco acknowledged Harry's advice with a noncommittal grunt and pulled his other boot on. All he wanted to do right now was escape from the room before some other family member happened along and the whole discussion started over again.

"Ready?" Bill asked.

"Yeah, let's go play some Quidditch," Draco said, glad to be moving out of the room.

As the men filed back into the yard, the women threw a few ego-stroking comments their way, to which the men preened shamelessly. Draco looked over at Ginny. She had a decidedly hungry look in her eyes that had nothing to do with lack of food. He decided that such an open wanton expression couldn't go unmentioned, so he started to head over to her. Not two steps into his journey, he encountered a roadblock in the form of three little boys, all kitted up in their Quidditch gear and holding their broomsticks.

"We're ready, Daddy," Drake informed him confidently.

Draco frowned. He knew he hadn't given Drake permission to play today, but he wondered if Bill and Charlie had said anything to their sons. "Are you boys playing?"

"Yeah!" all three boys answered in unison.

"All right then," Draco answered a little hesitantly.

Loud cheers erupted from the three little wizards and they started towards the back field.

"Beau, where are you going?" Bill called after his son.

"We're playing too!" the excited little boy replied.

Bill frowned at his son. "Are you?"

"Uncle Draco said we could," Beau informed him.

Upon hearing Beau's claim, Draco swung around, and he was instantly sorry that he did. All the men were looking at him with decidedly displeased expressions, especially Bill and Charlie. "I thought one of you ... They acted like they already had permission."

Harry's mouth began to twitch first, and then Ron tried to disguise a snort of laughter with a cough, after that the rest of the men gave into their amusement. Bill and Charlie walked over to Draco.

"You should see your face," Charlie managed between his own hilarity.

Bill slapped Draco on the back, nearly knocking the air from his body. "You have just been had."

Draco gaped at his oldest brother-in-law. _Had? How could he, Draco Malfoy, be had by a few little wizards?_ "How could—"

"It wasn't all that difficult," Pansy said casually.

"What do you know about it?" Draco snapped.

Pansy tried her best not to smirk at him. "I overheard them plotting their attack."

"Go on," Draco urged, knowing full well he was going to regret it.

"First they identified the softest target." Pansy smiled sweetly at Draco.

"Me?" Draco looked thoroughly offended. "I'm not soft!"

Pansy looked at him questioningly. "No?"

Draco snarled.

"Then they decided who would be best to do the talking," Pansy continued. "Of course, Drake got the job, because he knows how to get you to agree to anything. And the rest, they say, is history."

"Conniving little buggers," Bill grumbled.

Charlie shook his head disbelievingly. "We're going to have to watch them from now on."

"Why me?" Draco whined.

"That's not hard to figure out," Charlie said.

"Charlie and I would have checked with each other," Bill informed him.

"Fine, next time I'll check," Draco ground out. "What are we going to do about today?"

"We should tell them they're not playing," Charlie responded.

"I'll do it," Draco offered. He was looking forward to seeing their little faces fall with disappointment.

"You can't do that," Fred objected.

"That's rubbish," George agreed.

"Got to give them something for being clever enough to outsmart you," Fred went on with gusto.

"Admiration!" George puffed his chest out. "That's what I've got for them."

"They deserve to play," Fred concluded.

Bill rolled his eyes at his twin brothers. "How about we send all three of them to stay with you a week?"

"We'd take them gladly," George stated.

"They'd probably come back with a load of new tricks to torment us with," Charlie reminded Bill.

"Let them play, boys," Molly interrupted. "It'll do them good to burn off some energy."

"Mum, they—"

"I know what they did," Molly said. "But it won't work again, will it?"

"No."

"Let them think they've won this time, and then when they try the same trick again—" Molly let her voice trail off as the men began to grin coldly and nod.

"That could work," Charlie uttered.

"Might be fun," Bill agreed.

"So, they're flying today?" Draco asked for confirmation.

"Yeah, let them fly," Charlie concluded. "Did anyone get the ball crate?"

"Got it," Harry replied.

"You know it's going to be easier when they're actually old enough to play with us," Bill said as the men picked up their broomsticks and headed for the field.

"The only thing we'll have to worry about then is if we're going to get ousted out of our positions." Charlie laughed as he stepped over the stone wall.

Drake, Matthew and Beau were already in the air showing off to each other and whoever else was watching.

"They're all getting good," Ron said, admiring his nephews.

"They have no fear," Charlie reminded him.

"Yet," Bill added. "Gather around, everyone, so we can work the teams out. Harry, can you give the boys a yell?"

"No problem." Harry jogged over to stand closer to where the boys were flying and bellowed at them to come down.

When everyone was close enough to hear, Bill turned to Charlie. "Who do you want?"

"I'll have Matthew, George, Harry and Ron," Charlie said decisively. "You can have everyone else."

"No problem." Bill examined his team for a moment. "Draco, you're our Seeker. Drake, Beau and I will be Chasers. Fred, you're our only Beater, and, Percy, you're Goal Keeper."

"You lot ready?" Charlie asked.

"We're good," Bill answered.

"George is playing Chaser and Beater."

Bill nodded to acknowledge the claim. "Fine with us."

As the game got under way, Arthur appeared in the field. He was levitating a heavy comfortable chair, which he set down in the shade of a large tree. Molly and Ginny soon followed with a blanket that Ginny spread out next to the chair. Before long the other women followed with the rest of the children.

"Are all the lunch dishes done?" Molly asked.

"Yes, Molly," Anya answered.

"And everything is put away properly?" Molly continued.

Anya's smile was brittle at best. "Of course."

"I just like to check that it's all done properly," Molly informed them all.

"I know," Anya ground out almost silently.

"Is she driving you nutters?" Ginny whispered.

"Insane," Anya replied in a lowered voice. "Everything has to be done _her_ way."

Ginny patted her sister-in-law's hand. "She's set in her ways."

"I know." Anya sighed. "It just makes it hard for anyone trying to help her."

"If you need me—" Ginny began.

Anya's eyes popped wide open. "Don't go there!"

Ginny looked at her sister-in-law with confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Think about what happened last time we tried to look after her together," Anya reminded her.

"Okay, but the offer is there. Even if you want to take a day off or something," Ginny continued.

"That I might do." Anya smiled warmly.

Ginny reached over and squeezed Anya's hand comfortingly. "Just let me know when."

"Oh goodness! Ginny, is that Drake?" Molly shrieked.

Ginny looked skyward just in time to see her son execute a steep dive at top speed. She kept her eyes glued to her son, willing him to remain on his broom. It wasn't until Drake pulled out of the dive that Ginny remembered to breathe again.

"Are you all right?" Katie asked.

"Yes, I'm fine." Ginny smiled for everyone's benefit. "It's just a bit scary watching him."

"He's only a baby! He shouldn't be flying like that," Molly expressed most definitely.

"Drake flies like that all the time," Angel said casually. "He's really good."

"Ginny, how could you let him?" Molly inquired.

"It's not like I can stop him once he's in the air." Ginny rolled her eyes, though it was well out of Molly's vision.

"Harry said he's a natural," Hermione added, trying to be helpful.

"Natural or not, he's going to kill himself," Molly determined.

"The boys are keeping a close eye on the little ones, Molly," Anya said. "There's no way one of them would hit the ground, if they fell, with so many watching them."

Molly clasped her hands and held them just below her ample breasts, then sat back in her chair with a very discontented expression on her face.

Ginny rolled her eyes again. She knew that stubborn expression well and wisely didn't say anything to re-engage her mother in the discussion about Drake's or anyone else's flying prowess.

As the game progressed, Drake dove at every opportunity he possibly could. Each time Molly tutted and fussed, but the only one who paid her protests any heed was Angel, who gave her grandma delightfully detailed descriptions of the sort of antics her twin was known to attempt on his broom.

It didn't help matters when Beau and Matthew started flying with the same abandon that Drake had been since the game started. The women watching from the ground really had no need to strain their necks to see the game, as Molly was giving everyone a running commentary.

By the time the Snitch made its appearance, Molly had worked herself up into quite a state. The girls had been discreetly trying to figure out how to get her back to the house without upsetting her further, but now that Draco and Harry were racing through the air at breakneck speed there was no way she was going to move until she knew everyone had landed without incident.

Ginny held her breath as the two Seekers closed in on the Snitch. Harry and Draco were flying shoulder to shoulder, both of them trying to bump the other off course. The three underage wizards were hovering about twenty feet off the ground, watching raptly as the final play of the game unfolded.

All of a sudden Fleur screamed. The Snitch had flown through the three little boys and the two men chasing it were bearing down on them at a terrifying speed. Panicked calls for the boys to get out of the way filled the air.

Time seemed to slow down as Ginny watched her son and nephews hover indecisively in the air. Her heart leapt into her throat as Harry and Draco went around the boys with no room to spare.

"Thank goodness." Anya released a relieved sigh.

"That was close," Ginny uttered, her heart hammering against her ribs.

"Too close," Fleur agreed in a shaky voice.

"Arthur, get those boys down," Molly ordered in a shrill voice.

"Yes, dear," Arthur answered.

As Arthur wandered over to stand under the playing area, Harry let loose a triumphant cry and all the men began to descend. There was no celebrating from the winning team as the men gathered around the three boys, all asking if they were all right. Draco pushed his way through the crowd, eager to reach his son.

"Drake," Draco uttered, kneeling in front of the boy. "Are you all right?"

Drake nodded, his eyes as big as saucers and fear still very much evident in his face.

"Listen, if that ever happens again, you're to stay perfectly still." Draco paused to look at the other two boys. "That goes for all of you. It's easier for a Seeker to go around someone who's not moving."

"I just told them that," Charlie said.

"It bears repeating."

The men started to disperse as the women pushed their way to the boys. Ginny, Fleur and Anya claimed their sons in rib-breaking embraces.

"They're just a bit shaken," Bill said, sounding a little shaken himself.

"You should have made sure they were safe," Fleur scolded, as she held a now struggling Beau.

"We're sorry," Charlie mumbled.

"Sorry wouldn't have saved their lives if there had been a collision," Anya barked.

"Let's just get back to the house," Bill suggested. "I'm sure the boys need a drink."

"I know I do," Charlie added under his breath.

No one had noticed Molly standing behind them, but the moment they turned to make their way back to the house she made her presence heard.

"What_were_ you thinking?"

"Mum, they're—" Bill tried.

"They could have been _killed_!" Molly shrieked.

"They weren't," Charlie dared to utter.

"You should have made sure they came back to the ground," Molly insisted.

"We—" Bill started.

"And you!" Molly turned her accusing eyes on Draco. "You should have stopped!"

"There wasn't time," Draco muttered. Not that Molly heard him as she continued railing at them.

The Weasley matriarch assaulted their ears for another five minutes, during which time the three boys seemed to recover from their ordeal enough to find their grandma's reaction funny.

"Why didn't you stop or something?" Fleur whispered to Draco on the way back to the house.

He glanced ahead at Molly. There was no way he wanted to start her off again, so he slowed his pace and indicated to Fleur to do the same. When there was enough distance between them and Molly, Draco looked at his sister-in-law. "There wasn't enough time. If we'd tried to stop the most likely result would have been loss of control and that would have been disastrous. Harry and I decided to keep going, so we had control of the situation."

"But you didn't know if the boys would move," Fleur pointed out, her tone still tainted with fear.

"We just had to hope they wouldn't or they'd move slowly to give us time to adjust our course a bit more." Draco paused, running a still gloved hand through his hair. "Look, we know, probably better than anyone, how close that was. We could hear you lot screaming at them to move, and all we could do was hope that they were listening to us instead, because we were bellowing at them to stay still."

"We didn't—"

"Yeah, I know." Draco sighed. "You've got to remember that we're in the air, and we need to control what's going on up there."

"We were so frightened," Fleur whispered in an uneven voice.

Draco looked around, only to discover that he was quite alone with his French sister-in-law. A sister-in-law who appeared ready to cry at any moment.

"You've just got to trust us," Draco answered uncertainly. "Err—Don't do that... The boys are safe."

With a strangled whimper Fleur collapsed onto Draco's chest. Her shoulders shook silently for a short time, and then she drew a haggard breath. Contrary to Draco's hope that she was pulling herself together, Fleur let loose an almighty wail and her tears began to flow in earnest. He patted her back awkwardly and made the perfunctory hushing noises, and prayed for Bill to notice his wife was missing. When it seemed that no one was going to rescue him, Draco knew he had to act.

"Fleur, why don't we go back to the house?" Draco tried gently. "A cup of tea would make you feel better, I'm sure."

At first he didn't think she'd heard him, but then she nodded against his chest. Even though she'd agreed, Fleur made no attempt to move of her own volition, leaving Draco to coax her along step by step.

As family members came into view, Draco fought the urge to call out to them. To alert anyone to his situation would bring it to an end sooner, but it seemed a little desperate, and he didn't want anyone thinking that of him.

His patience paid off eventually. Penelope spied him helping Fleur across the yard, and suddenly Bill appeared out of nowhere, striding towards them with concern etched firmly into his usually cheerful face.

When Bill got close, Draco stopped and began to peel Fleur away from him. As he handed the woman to her husband Bill gave him an unmistakable questioning look.

"We were talking about what happened and she just—" Draco's voice trailed off as he waved his hand at the distressed witch.

"Thanks," Bill murmured, leading Fleur away.

Draco stood alone for a few minutes, watching the family fuss over Fleur. He could hear Molly telling everyone that it was delayed shock, and what she needed was a cup of tea and some rest.

"Are you all right?" Ginny asked, wrapping her arms around him.

Draco blinked blankly at her a couple of times, wondering where she had come from so suddenly. "Yeah, I'm fine. Is Fleur—"

"She'll be all right." Ginny smiled softly. "Of course, it might be some time before Beau sees his broomstick again."

"Poor kid," Draco uttered.

"Bill will handle it," Ginny assured him. "Are you coming over here? Mum wants to do the cake."

"Of course."

Once Molly had made certain Fleur was okay, she ordered that Ginny's cake be brought out. It wasn't long before the discordant chorus of 'Happy Birthday' filled the yard and Draco started cringing privately. He still couldn't fathom how a group of people could sound so awful singing such a basic tune.

Molly tried to serve the cake, but Ginny sent her to sit with Fleur, claiming that Fleur needed another woman at the moment. While Ginny set about slicing the huge cake Molly had determinedly made, the other women started distributing the cake to the family, starting with the children first.

Draco was about to sit down when he spied Ron going into the house. Confident that everyone else was outside, Draco decided that it was a good time to have that chat with Ron that he'd promised he would.

"Draco, don't you want some cake?" Ginny asked.

He stopped mere feet from the door, his mind working overtime to come up with a good reason why he was sneaking into the house. "I have to—to go to the bathroom."

"I'll put a piece aside for you."

"Thank you, love," Draco muttered before entering the house.

Ron was nowhere to be seen on the ground floor, so Draco climbed the stairs. He checked the bathroom and found it empty. A noise from somewhere above him answered his question about where his youngest brother-in-law might be.

Draco headed straight to Ron's bedroom, thinking it was probably better if they have this discussion in a private setting where no one was likely to walk in accidentally.

As he approached Draco noticed that Ron's door was open. What he was going to say was floating across his thoughts, and he was trying to come up with an opening line that would make the man more conducive to what he had to say. Before he even realized it, Draco was standing in the open doorway. He was frozen to the spot; even his mind had shut down, as he struggled to comprehend what his eyes were telling him. It wasn't until Pansy let a stream of expletives pour from her mouth that Draco's brain re-engaged, and he hurried back to the stairs.

He didn't stop until he'd reached the front room, and then only to compose himself before rejoining the family. While he was curious about how some activities were performed with a pregnant woman, the practical demonstration was something he'd like erased from his memory, preferably before it sent him insane.

Outside the house the rest of the family were laughing and joking around in their typical fashion, completely oblivious to what was going on inside.

"Are you all right, Draco?" Ginny asked, placing a hand gently on his arm.

"Err—yes, yes I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" Ginny frowned at him. "You look a bit pale."

"I'm sure," Draco said strongly, hardly believing he could sound so confident when his mind was screaming at him that everything was most certainly not all right.

"All right," Ginny said slowly. "Would you like your cake now?"

"That'd be good, love." Draco let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding as his wife left his side.

"Are you going to stand there all afternoon?"

Draco glanced over to an expectant looking Ginny, holding his rather generous slice of cake. He walked over and accepted the plate. "No, I'll find somewhere to sit."

"Are you sure there's nothing wrong?" Ginny probed again.

"Positive." Draco smiled for her benefit, though it felt forced, even to him. "Thanks."

He moved around to the other side of the table, before she could question him further, and he gave into the temptation to vent his disgust verbally. There was a vacant chair next to Charlie, so Draco made a beeline for it.

"Someone's getting spoiled," Charlie expressed as Draco put his plate on the table.

Draco looked up quizzically. "Excuse me?"

"You do realize you've got twice as much cake as anyone else got."

"I have?" Draco glanced at the portion on the plate and wondered briefly if he had the stomach to eat all of it. "What can I say? My wife loves me."

Bill slumped into the chair next to Draco and sighed heavily.

"Is Fleur okay now?" Draco asked politely.

"Yeah." Bill nodded. "Look, thanks for before. If I had any idea she was going to lose it like that I would have hung around."

"It's fine," Draco responded a little uncomfortably. He really didn't want to get into the whys or whatevers, he just wanted to know that the woman was feeling better.

"I saw you go into the house after Ron before," Charlie mentioned quietly. "Did you get a chance to have a word with him?"

"Umm—No, it wasn't the right time."

Bill frowned. "What do you mean 'not the right time'? Time is growing short for him."

"I mean he was—he was busy."

"Doing what?" Harry asked from across the table.

"I'd rather forget," Draco growled.

The men exchanged confused glances, but didn't push the blond to reveal anything further, as he was quite obviously not willing to share.

"I'll ask Ron what happened," Harry mouthed across the table when Draco was busy looking at his plate.

Bill wisely changed the subject by asking Charlie whether or not he'd been preparing for the upcoming school year. The Hogwarts Professor launched into a detailed rhetoric about the animals he planned to have his students study. Charlie's descriptions had them all cringing, and Harry even mused aloud that he thought Charlie might be worse than Hagrid when it came to his inexplicable love of dangerous creatures.

Draco managed to lose himself in the conversation. As horrific as the beasts that Charlie was intending to inflict upon his students were, it was better than thinking about what he had witnessed. His efforts to put the horror behind him were proving successful until Ron and Pansy returned to the yard.

Visions of Ron's lily-white arse once again filled Draco's head and he could feel his face contorting in disgust.

"What's—" Charlie looked from his brother-in-law to his overly cheerful youngest brother, and then he burst into laughter. "Oh, you didn't."

"Please don't," Draco begged.

"Have we missed something?" Harry asked, looking a little confused.

"Take a good look at your best mate," Charlie instructed. "What do you think put that expression on his face?"

Harry chuckled. "There's only one thing that makes him glow like that."

"Remember when Draco said he couldn't talk to Ron earlier, because he was 'busy'?"

"Yeah," Harry answered casually.

Draco watched Harry's face carefully, waiting for him to connect the dots.

"Oh—oh—" Harry burst into uncontrollable laughter.

Bill cleared his throat, but appeared to be struggling to keep his composure. "So how much did you see?"

"Enough to give me nightmares," Draco snarled.

"You know you could—" Bill's control escaped him, and he too burst into raucous laughter.

"Sounds like you lot are having fun," Ron said, resting one of his hands on Draco's shoulder. "What have I missed?"

Draco's face contorted into an expression of revulsion as he eyed the hand sitting, uninvited, on his shoulder while trying not to breathe. Just the thought of where he'd last seen that hand had his stomach rolling. With no subtly he reached up and plucked Ron's hand from his shoulder with two fingers.

"What's wrong?" Ron asked, his face now a mask of confusion.

"I doubt you washed your hands," Draco hissed.

Ron's confused expression doubled. "What?"

"He saw what you were doing with your hands," Bill mentioned.

When Ron showed no sign of having any idea what they were on about, Charlie added, "Upstairs."

"Upstairs?" Ron repeated, still frowning deeply. "But I was—"

"We know what you were doing upstairs," Bill interrupted.

With that Ron's face went from happily flushed to a furious magenta. His mouth was working, but only nondescript sounds were coming out much to the amusement of those at the end of the table. "What the bloody hell were you doing perving on us?" Ron finally spluttered.

"Your door was open," Draco growled. "It's not like I would have deliberately subjected myself to—to _that_."

"My room is the only one up there," Ron pointed out.

"And I thought you were alone."

"That doesn't explain why you were there."

"I wanted a word."

"About what?"

Draco weighed up his options. Ron was obviously not in a receptive mood right now. "We'll talk later."

"No, we'll talk now," Ron argued.

"Someone might over hear us," Draco whispered harshly, throwing a well-timed glance towards the women.

"Right then, we'll talk later," Ron answered seriously. "Is there any cake left? I missed out."

"No, you didn't," Harry teased.

"Shut it," Ron snapped. "She'll think I told you."

"You don't have to say anything when it's written all over your face," Harry informed him.

"It helps if certain people keep their mouths shut." Ron glared at Draco.

"Draco didn't say a word," Bill corrected. "He said you were busy, and it was only when we saw your face that we guessed how _busy_ you were."

"You really need to control that _happiness_, little brother, or everyone will know exactly what you're doing, when you're doing it," Charlie advised.

"Wouldn't want Mum catching onto what that expression means," Bill warned.

A stricken expression took over Ron's features as he glanced over to where his mother was sitting. He sat down at the end of the table and cradled his head in his hands.

Harry patted his friend's shoulder. "Don't worry, mate, we won't say a word."

"Thanks," Ron uttered sarcastically.

"Why don't you have some cake? You know that'll make you feel better," Harry suggested.

Ron looked up hopefully. "There's some left?"

"Of course there is. None of us can eat as much as you."

Ron ignored the jibe at his appetite and made his way to the other end of the table, where the left over cake was sitting. There were several slices already cut for anyone who desired more, so Ron helped himself to three of the pieces.

"Did you get enough?" Draco asked a little disgustedly as Ron sat back down.

"I'm hungry," Ron defended. "I always get hungry after—"

"I don't need to know," Draco ground out.

"I was going to say Quidditch." Ron rolled his eyes. "You need a good shag."

"Excuse me?" Draco choked out.

"A good shag would stop you thinking about it all the time," Ron informed him matter-of-factly.

"Would it please you if I bent your sister over the table right now?"

The youngest Weasley brother, who simply rolled his eyes again and leaned over with a serious expression on his face, ignored the protests from the other Weasley men in earshot. "No, not like that. You've got to take your time, you see. Build up the tension until you can't stand it any longer and she's begging you."

"Really?" Draco feigned interest as best he could. "It didn't look like you were taking your time upstairs."

"That was different... A quickie." Ron looked expectantly at Draco.

"So there's a difference?" Draco inquired with an amused smirk.

"Absolutely!"

"Good to know." Draco nodded as if confirming the idea.

"We're going to have to have a serious chat if you don't know that," Ron stated gravely.

"Not necessary. I was just curious about the difference, because _quickies_ aren't in my repertoire." Draco paused and leaned towards Ron. "You see, your sister prefers it if I take the time to make her scream."

Ron drew back from the table with a horrified look on his face. "That's enough."

Draco smirked. "Are you sure? I could tell you how much she likes it when I—"

"NO!" Ron clapped his hands over his ears. "I don't want to know."

"If you're positive," Draco said casually, leaning back in his chair.

"We're positive," Bill and Charlie responded in unison.

Draco laughed.

Charlie leaned forward in his chair and pinned his brother-in-law with a stern look. "Talking like that is—"

"Bad for my health," Draco finished for him. "I know."

The men were silent for a few seconds, and then they burst into laughter.

Charlie ruffled Draco's hair good-naturedly. "And you lot thought he wasn't trainable!"

A renewed bout of hilarity went around the end of the table. It was only the sudden appearance of Beau, Matthew and Drake that sobered the men.

"Dad, can we go flying?" Beau asked hopefully.

"You've been flying today, and I really don't feel like getting back on my broom," Bill answered.

"Just us," Beau insisted. "Me, Matthew and Drake. You don't have to come."

"I don't know about that, mate," Bill responded slowly.

"You lot are a bit young to be flying on your own," Charlie said.

"We won't be alone," Drake corrected. "We'll be with each other."

"You need an adult with you," Bill insisted.

Matthew frowned. "Why?"

"If you fall or hurt yourself—" Charlie started.

"We promise not to fall," Beau said earnestly.

"Boys, just five us a couple of minutes," Bill instructed.

"Okay," Beau replied excitedly, pulling his two younger cousins away.

Draco waited until the boys were a fair distance away before turning to Bill. "What are you playing at?"

"What age were you when you started flying alone?" Bill inquired.

"It was the summer before I started Hogwarts," Draco answered.

Bill and Charlie exchanged knowing glances.

"I'll rephrase it then: how old were you when you started sneaking out for a fly?"

Draco cringed. "About Drake's age, maybe a bit older, but not much."

"I started about the same age," Bill admitted.

"And I was younger, thanks to a generous big brother," Charlie added.

"Generous?" Bill questioned. "More like caving to your blackmail demands."

Charlie grinned and shrugged. "Either way I got to fly."

"So what are you saying?" Draco asked cautiously.

"I'm saying that they're going to do it eventually, if they don't already, so I think it might be an idea to let them go up occasionally without us," Bill explained. "We're just here if anything happens."

"We'd have to set some ground rules first," Charlie insisted.

"Of course," Bill agreed. "Draco, what about you? Are you willing to trust them?"

"Drake does fly well," Draco conceded quietly. "I suppose we have to trust them sometime."

"We'll lay down the law to them and see if they can behave themselves," Bill said.

"All right," Charlie agreed. "What do you think their height limit should be?"

"Top of the goal hoops?" Bill suggested.

"Sounds fair," Charlie concurred.

"That's a bit high considering they'll be unsupervised, isn't it?" Draco queried.

"We don't want to make it too low or they'll breach it for sure," Bill argued.

Draco nodded. "Good point."

"No diving," Charlie added.

"There's no point in Drake even going up then," Draco said. "All he does is practice dives."

"How about no doing any dive or maneuver they haven't done before?" Bill asked.

"Sounds fair," Charlie concurred.

"Anything else?" Bill looked at both men.

Charlie shook his head. "Can't think of anything."

"No," Draco answered.

"Boys!" Bill called loudly.

Within seconds the three excited little boys returned to their fathers. They listened to the rules carefully and didn't raise any objections, for fear they wouldn't be allowed to fly at all.

"Remember, we'll still be watching you," Charlie reminded them.

"There's just one more thing before you go," Bill said as the boys turned to run to the field. "If any of you end up in St. Mungo's, we'll kill you after your mothers have finished killing us."

Three pairs of excited eyes widened momentarily, and then they relaxed when they realized Bill was joking.

"Go on," Charlie urged. "Have fun."

With that the boys ran to the back field, stopping only to collect their broomsticks on the way.

"Where are they going with their brooms?" Ginny inquired.

"Flying," Draco responded.

Ginny's eyes opened wide. "On their own?"

"We gave them permission and laid down some rules," Draco explained calmly.

"Draco, they're not old enough!" Ginny protested fervently.

Bill leaned over to Draco and whispered, "Ask her how old she was when she started sneaking my broom out of the shed for a ride."

Draco quirked an eyebrow at Bill and the older man nodded. "How old were you when you started sneaking Bill's broom out of the shed?"

"That's beside the point," Ginny snapped. "And for you information, it was Charlie's broom I used."

"The point is we can still keep an eye on them, and they think they're flying alone, so it's a win-win situation," Bill explained, trying to stem his sister's obviously rising temper.

"How is that going to apply if one of them hurts himself?" Anya asked seriously.

"In that case, you'll win and we'll lose," Bill answered.

"Girls, they'll be fine," Arthur insisted. "They just want to be boys."

"Dad, they're just—" Ginny started.

"About the same age you were," Arthur finished. "Let them be themselves. Nothing every happened to any of you."

"Bill, I don't want Beau up there," Fleur said in a tone that brokered no argument.

"After what happened they all need to get back up there, but on their own terms, so they chase away any doubts that might have crept in," Bill justified evenly.

"I'd rather them have the doubts," Fleur snapped.

"If you're not confident on your broom, you're more likely to fall," Harry pointed out.

"I just—" Fleur began.

"They'll be fine," Bill assured her as he knelt beside her. "They need to do this."

Fleur met her husband's eyes intently. "If anything happens—"

"We'll deal with it, but nothing is going to happen." Bill patted Fleur's arm and kissed her forehead soundly before returning to his seat.

"Did we do the right thing?" Draco whispered.

"Yeah." Charlie glanced down the table at the women who were nattering away. "It's not the boys who need to work through their fears."

As Draco nodded he cast a worried glance in Ginny's direction. The women needed distraction, something to take their minds away from the fact that their baby boys were in the back field on their broomsticks completely alone.

"So, you promised to tell us what you did for Ginny's birthday," Bill said, changing the subject.

"I did." Draco grinned confidently. Before he could even begin his tale the men who hadn't been sitting close by moved in so they could hear. He wondered, just briefly, if the Weasley brothers were capable of communicating without actually talking.

"Go on," Charlie urged.

"We had an intimate dinner in the grounds of our home."

"Is that it?" Ron asked disgustedly, still dirty that he'd missed out on a free meal.

"Not quite." Draco smirked. "A horse-drawn carriage picked us up from the house and conveyed us to a very secluded location on the outskirts of our property, near the lake, where we had dinner—"

"A picnic?" Percy interrupted.

"No," Draco responded patiently. He knew none of them could be this creative, and he was feeling rather smug at the moment, despite the fact that his mother had planned the evening. "We had a three course meal under a marquee at a properly appointed table."

Percy sniffed pretentiously. "I see."

"After dinner we—err— did some stargazing," Draco finished in a hurry.

"Stargazing?" Bill questioned, his eyes holding his open disbelief.

"Never heard it called that before," Charlie admitted with a wry grin.

Draco smirked to confirm Charlie's definition of 'stargazing'. They'd all, apparently, caught on, if their expressions were anything to go by. "And after that we went back to the house."

Harry cleared his throat loudly. "It sounds like quite an evening."

"Ginny enjoyed herself," Draco said, glancing in the direction of his wife. He immediately noticed that she and the other women were staring in the direction of the back field with worried expressions on their faces. "They need distraction."

"Yeah, they do," Charlie agreed, frowning at the other end of the table.

"I have an idea," Draco whispered.

"Don't keep us in suspense," Bill insisted.

"Come and help me with Ginny's birthday presents. If they're oohing and aahing over girly stuff they won't be thinking about the boys."

"I don't think it'll work, but it's worth a shot."

Between the three of them they had all the gifts transferred in one trip.

"You'll have to call the boys back," Ginny insisted. "They'd be so disappointed if I opened them without them here."

"Ginny, the boys aren't going to care what you get."

"I'd still like—"

"Open your gifts," Draco said evenly.

"Here, start with this one," Ron encouraged. "I'm dying to know what I got you."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Ginny said as she read the card.

"It shouldn't," Ron answered simply. "Open it!"

Ginny rolled her eyes and began tugging at the wrapping. Under the pretty paper she found a box of products to pamper herself with. "Thank you, Pansy. I'm going to enjoy these."

"I thought you could do with a little personal pampering," Pansy responded in a pleased voice.

Ron peered over Ginny's shoulder. "It's just girlie stuff."

"Which is great, considering I'm a girl," Ginny responded.

"Yeah, but it's not very interesting," Ron argued.

"Ignore him, Ginny." Pansy pushed another beautifully wrapped parcel her way. "Open this one next."

Ginny shook her head at the disgusted sound Ron made and plucked the card off the gift Pansy was pushing at her. She smiled over at Percy and Penelope when she read their names. After removing the wrapping paper she ignored Hermione's delighted squeal that announced the gift as a book and forced a smile onto her face. "Thank you."

"I'm sure you'll find it useful," Percy commented superiorly.

"What's the title?" Hermione asked, leaning forward eagerly in her chair.

"Umm—_Pointers in Politesse for the Modern Witch_."

"Oh—" Hermione sent Ginny an understanding look. "Well, I'm sure it will be an interesting read."

Ginny looked around at the men. "Has anyone checked on the boys?"

"I'll go," Ron offered.

"Be discreet," Charlie whispered as his youngest brother brushed past him.

Draco watched Ron cross the yard. He was torn between staying with his wife and following his brother-in-law to have that chat while the man's fiancée was otherwise occupied.

"Now would be good," Bill whispered in Draco's ear.

"I was thinking the same thing, but I should be here with Ginny," Draco returned.

"Do you really care anymore than Drake?" Bill asked.

"Not really." Draco sighed. "All right, I'll go, but if she notices me missing—"

"We'll cover for you," Bill promised. "Just talk some sense into him."

"I'll try," Draco promised.

Draco crossed the yard quickly and entered the back field. His eyes went to the sky first. The three boys were having the time of their lives. A proud smile slipped over his mouth when Drake showed the other two a dive he'd been working on, and when they tried, they were unable to complete the maneuver.

"What are you doing out here?"

Startled, Draco jumped a little. He had failed to notice Ron standing in the shadow of one of the large trees close by. "I thought we might have that chat now."

"What about?" The reluctance in Ron's tone was all too evident.

"Your brothers think you're making a huge mistake by not taking the property Parkinson is offering," Draco started. "And, frankly, I'm inclined to agree."

"You can all mind your own business, because I can look after my family myself."

"No one is saying you can't, but refusing an offer like this is madness."

"Yeah... well... No one asked for your opinion."

"On the contrary. Bill and Charlie did, and Harry told me to just keep talking when you told me to piss off."

"What do they know? They've got houses."

"They know, if they had the same opportunity you have, it would have made their lives a whole lot easier."

Ron grumbled inarticulately under his breath.

"Look, apart from the fact that you're insane for refusing this offer, you're also dicing with tradition."

"What are you on about now?"

"In families of a certain wealth it's traditional for the parents to house their offspring in one of the family properties. Why do you think we have so many large houses?"

"If that's the case, why are you still living at home with Mummy and Daddy?" Ron asked aggressively.

"It's the other way around actually; they're living with me." Draco paused to see if Ron understood, which he clearly didn't, given the incredulous expression on his face. "When I married, I became the master of Malfoy Manor. The same will happen when Drake marries — the power or command of the house transfers automatically."

"So you're the head of the family?"

"Yes, technically speaking."

"And your dad is all right with that?"

"He doesn't have a choice. It's an ancient charm that one of our ancestors placed on the house centuries ago. What it does is ensure that the main house goes to the rightful heir and no wizard is in control of the family fortune for too long."

"So if you'd never found out about the twins and you'd married someone else, when Drake got married you'd have lost command of the house?"

"There's more to it than that, but very basically, yes, that would have happened."

"What if Drake's not your oldest son?"

"Given how old I was when he was conceived, and the fact that I was completely faithful to your sister when we were together, it's highly unlikely that I'd have another heir running around. Plus, your sister is probably the only woman in the world who wouldn't try to claim my fortune, because I got her pregnant, and there have been no further claims against my Gringotts vault."

"Yeah, Ginny never wanted you to know."

"That's beside the point," Draco said quickly, not wanting to dwell on painful memories. "The fact is that you're denying Pansy and any children you have together their rightful home. The home they should have, as has been tradition for more generations than we can account for." Draco paused to allow what he'd said to sink in a bit. "By rights, it's Pansy's house you'd be living in."

"I get all of that, but it just doesn't sit right with me," Ron expressed in a frustrated tone. "It feels like a hand out."

"It's not. I assume you're not being offered the main house."

"No, it's another one. I can't remember what it's called, but I've seen a photograph."

"So, if you don't take the house it will continue to remain vacant until... Well, probably forever."

"I just wanted to make my own way."

"Just think of everything you'll be able to do for Pansy, and your children, without the burden of housing costs. Your children will be in line to inherit the Parkinson estate, but if you start messing with tradition there's no telling how that might affect their future wealth."

"What do you mean?"

"Parkinson could write Pansy out of his will and, subsequently, any children she may give you."

"Yeah, but it's the bloke's responsibility to house his family."

"It is, and you'd be negligent in your responsibilities if you didn't take the house."

Ron appeared to be waging an internal war. His face was contorted into an expression of deep concentration that was only marred by a hint of irritation.

"You earn good money, but from what I've heard the property market is a bit thin at the moment, so anything you can afford is best described as a dump." Draco stopped as Ron's face hardened, but when he didn't refute the claim he continued. "Just think of the life you could give her. What you could spend the extra Galleons on that would otherwise be going towards keeping a roof over your head."

Ron grunted discontentedly.

"Look, I'm not going to keep prattling on. I've had my say. All I ask is that you consider Pansy's feelings in this as well. She might want, or even need, the familiar surroundings of a family property at the moment."

Without waiting for a response, Draco headed back to the rest of the family. There was nothing more he could think of to say that would encourage the man to make the right decision. He did understand where Ron was coming from though; the Weasleys were very proud people, and to accept such an enormous offer went against Ron's nature.

"Any luck?" Charlie asked in a lowered voice as Draco neared the table.

"I don't know," Draco admitted honestly. "I think I've got him considering it a bit more seriously, but who knows what decision he'll come to."

"Let's just hope it's the right one."

"Yeah," Draco answered absently. "Did Ginny finish opening her gifts?"

"Ages ago," Charlie said.

"Did she notice I was gone?"

"Yeah, she did, but we told her you went to check on the boys, because Ron hadn't returned."

Draco nodded. That was a perfectly feasible excuse for his absence.

"Draco, are the boys okay?" Ginny asked the moment she noticed her husband had returned.

"Yes, love, they're having fun."

"Good. When you went after Ron we thought—" Ginny's voice trailed off, too scared to put her thoughts into words.

"I think Ron was quite mesmerized by how well they all fly," Draco fibbed.

"He's probably dying to join them," Pansy said.

"Most likely," Draco answered. "What else did you get for your birthday?"

"I've packed it all up now, so I'll show you at home," Ginny promised. "I think you'll be pleased with at least one gift."

"Oh?"

"He'll be more than pleased," Pansy insisted with a wicked grin.

"Will I now?" Draco grinned. "You might just have to tell me about this gift."

"You can wait," Ginny insisted.

"Who was it from?"

"Fred and George."

Draco cast a wary glance at his wife's twin brothers.

"It was the least we could do," Fred said.

"Especially after we looked after you on your birthday," George added.

"What did they get you?" Draco asked in a low voice.

"Don't worry," Ginny assured him. "It was just some lingerie that I know you're going to love."

"Lingerie?" Draco began to smirk.

"Yes, you know, lacy things that barely cover anything."

"Excellent."

All of a sudden, Ron strode through the yard and into the house with a determined look on his face. Everyone stopped speaking as the back door of the house slammed behind him. In seconds Bill and Charlie were at Draco's side.

"What did you say to him?" Bill demanded.

"I talked to him just like you asked."

"Talked to him about what?" Pansy inquired.

"Just something we—" Charlie's voice failed him under the sharp eyes of the black-haired witch.

"Nothing import—" Bill physically cringed as her eyes turned on him.

"Men's business," Draco said firmly. He knew she was raised not to question such a statement, but that didn't necessarily mean she wouldn't, so he braced himself for her glare.

Pansy turned her dark eyes on her old friend and raised one eyebrow in a challenging manner.

"Don't look at me like that, Parkinson, you know it won't do you any good," Draco informed her.

Pansy opened her mouth to retort, but the sound of the back door slamming again distracted her.

Ron marched over to her and put her handbag in her hands, then placed her cloak over her shoulders. "We have to go."

Pansy looked at him in bewilderment. "Why?"

"We're having dinner with your parents," Ron said in barely a whisper.

At that point several large hands landed on Draco's back in what he thought was meant to be a congratulatory manner. However, he felt as though they were trying to push his spine through his breastbone. By the time Draco had recovered enough to draw his next breath, Ron had spirited his fiancée away, and the family had begun to gossip about what he was likely to do at Pansy's parents' house.

Not long after Ron's shocking departure, other family members began to say their goodbyes and gather their children for the journey home. It wasn't until Molly started to show signs of fatigue that Ginny decided it was time to leave. The Weasley matriarch had done well to keep going for as long as she had today, considering she still hadn't made a full recovery from her recent illness.

* * *

When they arrived home Draco saw to the twins' baths while Ginny packed away her gifts. A light family dinner was followed by some quiet time in the parlor before Drake and Angel were marched up to bed, with only a few token protests being made for effect.

Once the twins had settled down, Draco and Ginny retired to their own rooms for the remainder of the evening. While Ginny put some of the products Pansy had given her to good use in the bath, Draco took a quick shower and then settled on the bed with a book. He hardly glanced up as his wife crossed the room wrapped in her bathrobe an hour or so after he got comfortable.

Ten minutes later the sound of a lightly cleared throat disturbed his peace. Draco glanced up to the doorway of Ginny's dressing room to find her leaning in the doorway, clad in a mere wisp of black lace and satin.

"Do you like my brothers' taste in frilly things?"

"They have exceedingly good taste," Draco conceded with an appreciative smirk. If all his blood wasn't thundering away from his brain it might have occurred to him that the gift wasn't entirely an appropriate item to give their sister, but as it was his thoughts were solely focused on how wonderfully the fine fabric caressed her ivory skin. "Coming to bed?" Draco asked in a throaty voice.

"That depends on whether you're going to put your book aside."

Draco pushed to tome off the bed. "What book?"

Ginny walked over to their bed slowly, noticing the way his eyes didn't stray from the sway of her hips. She climbed onto the end of the bed and crawled towards him. The effect she was having on him was measured by just one glance at his boxers.

Draco reached for her as she neared his grasp. When his hands got within an inch of her torso he received a painful shock. "Oww."

"What's wrong?"

"You stung me!"

"It's probably just static."

"Mmm..." Draco reached out again and once again he withdrew in pain. "What's going on?"

"I don't know."

"Just take it off, because I can't touch you without it attacking me."

Ginny laughed. "You're being ridiculous. It's just a piece of clothing."

"No, I'm not! This isn't static. There's something wrong."

"Fine, I'll take it off." Ginny sat up and turned her back towards Draco. "Can you at least untie the laces?"

Draco reached out a tentative hand and tried to grab hold of one of the laces holding the item on her body, but when his fingers got close he received another shock. "Oww... Bloody hell."

"What?"

"It attacked me again."

"Draco—"

"Look, I know how ridiculous it sounds, but I'm not kidding."

"Just get me out of this."

"All right," Draco said with determination. He reached out and took one of the ties between his fingers. The pain was almost unbearable, but he held on long enough to give the lacing a couple of sharp tugs. "Fuck!"

"What?"

"Look at this." Draco held out the fingers that had tried to untie her lingerie to show her two seriously blistered fingers.

"Oh my goodness! How did that happen?"

"Those are the fingers that were touching the bloody laces."

Ginny cradled his injured hand in hers and raised it to her mouth to kiss the tender flesh. "I'll take it off."

"Good and then it can go directly into the fireplace."

"Why?"

"It burned me, so I'm going to burn it, with undeniable pleasure."

Ginny rolled her eyes as she reached around behind herself to release the laces. She pulled lightly at first, and then a little harder, but nothing happened. "Draco, I left my wand in the dressing room. Can you get it for me?"

"It won't release, will it?"

"I did it up with magic, so perhaps I need to release it with magic."

Draco leaned over to his nightstand and retrieved his own wand. "Let me try."

"All right." Ginny turned her back on him again.

He tried every charm he could think of to get the lingerie to release its claim on his wife's body, even a severing charm, to no avail. At one point the sparks created by the charm he was using flew back at him, causing Draco to roll off the bed in an effort to avoid further injury.

"This is not lingerie," Draco snarled. "It's a bloody chastity belt!"

"I'll Floo them and ask them how to get it off," Ginny said climbing off the bed and going to retrieve her bathrobe from her dressing room. "I'm sure there's a simple solution that only those two would find amusing."

Draco sat on the bed cursing the very existence of his twin brothers-in-law and vowing to make them pay for their lack of good judgment. "I'll Floo them," he growled as Ginny emerged from her dressing room.

"It might be better—"

"I'm Flooing them," Draco reiterated, determinedly negating any argument she had before storming into their sitting room.

Ginny followed him, watching from a distance as he grabbed a handful of Floo powder from the bowl and slamming it back to the mantle with a bang loud enough to make her jump.

Draco threw the Floo powder into the hearth and emerald flames erupted in the empty grate. He practically yelled Fred's address and then almost threw himself into the flames. The sickening swirl of the Floo Network did nothing to help his demeanor, nor did finding Fred's house vacant and in darkness. Draco withdrew from the fireplace and reached up blindly for the Floo powder, knocking the bowl off the narrow mantle. His string of expletives was lost in the sound of the crystal bowl exploding on the marble hearth.

"Draco, are you all right? You're not cut, are you?"

"I'm fine," Draco ground out, sinking his hand into the largest pile of Floo powder without thought. "Oww! Shit!"

Ginny's eyes opened wide when she saw the blood dripping from her husband's hand. "Let me heal you."

"Don't come over here, there's crystal everywhere," Draco warned, conscious of her bare feet.

Ginny extracted her wand from her bathrobe pocket and pointed it in the general direction of the dangerous mess. "_Reparo_."

Fragments of crystal flew from all directions to meet a foot or so away from Draco. He sustained a few shallow grazes as pieces of sharp crystal forced their way from between his legs, which he complained about profusely.

"Stop whining and show me your cuts," Ginny ordered.

Draco proceeded to point out each and every little nick or graze.

Ginny healed the minor injuries quickly, but the cut on his hand was deep and full of Floo powder. "This needs cleaning first."

"Just heal it, so I can find one of your brothers."

"It'll get infected if you don't clean it. Now come to the bathroom and wash it out."

Draco grumbled unintelligibly about wasting time. All he wanted to do was get his hands on Fred and George, or either one of them, and throttle them.

"You have to stay still," Ginny instructed, after finding a sizable piece of crystal buried in the wound.

Draco snatched his hand away. "Oww that hurt!"

"For goodness sakes, it's not going to tickle, but if you keep moving it's likely to come out of your ear instead of your hand." Ginny grabbed his hand and held it in the basin. "You're a bigger princess than Angel."

"I am not!"

"Well, prove it!" Ginny challenged. "Hold still."

She could feel him shaking slightly under her touch, but went ahead anyway, lest they be there all night. With a steady hand, Ginny held her wand over the open wound and summoned the fragment.

"That hurts, Ginny!"

Ginny held his hand as still as she could with one hand, but it was inevitable that the crystal would take the most direct route out of his flesh and, in doing so, increase the size of the wound, not to mention the volume of the squeals. Once she had dropped the offending shard into the sink, Draco's hand was once again unceremoniously pulled under the running water, dried magically and then healed.

"All done," Ginny announced.

"Did I ever tell you that you're brutal?"

"And you're a big nancy boy," Ginny retorted. "Now, if you don't go and Floo my brothers I'm going to, because the sound of running water did nothing for my bladder."

"I'm going now," Draco promised, examining his newly healed hand.

"Thank you." Ginny smiled as her husband wandered out of the bathroom. She gave the basin a quick rinse and then joined Draco in the sitting room.

He was trying to scrape enough Floo powder off the floor to make a call, but it had been scattered virtually all over the room.

"I'll get you some more Floo powder," Ginny offered.

"No, don't worry about it. There is enough here." Draco looked around the room with a hint of despair. "I just have to get enough of it into my hand."

"Well, I wish you'd hurry," Ginny said a little desperately. Now that she'd voiced her need to use the bathroom the urge had increased tenfold.

"I'm trying." Draco scraped around for another few minutes. "I think this should do it."

"Good," Ginny said in a strained voice from her perch on the edge of a chair.

Draco gave her a tight smile, swore a painful vengeance on the twins and threw what Floo powder he had collected into the hearth, demanding to be connected with George Weasley.

Luck was finally starting to turn his way. Not only was the kitchen of his brother-in-law's home fully lit, Katie and Angelina were sitting at the kitchen table, which meant the twins were together.

"Draco?" Katie said.

"Katie, where is you husband?"

"He's off with Fred."

"Where?"

"The shop, I think." Katie turned back to the table. "Did the boys say they were going to the shop, Angelina?"

"Yes, they had some experiment or something to check."

"Look, if they arrive home, and they haven't spoken to me, can you get them to Floo me urgently?"

"Is there something wrong?"

"Yes. Now if you don't mind I've got to try and catch them at the shop." With that Draco withdrew from the hearth. "I need more Floo powder. They're at their shop."

"Millie!" Ginny called.

"Mistress did—" Millie started the second she appeared in the room.

"We need more Floo powder urgently."

"Yes, Mistress."

"How are you holding up?" Draco asked when the servant had left to do their bidding.

"If I move I'm going to be in trouble."

Millie reappeared in the sitting room with a bowl of Floo powder. Draco snatched it out of the servant's hands. He threw a handful into the fireplace and gave the address of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

The moment the back office of the store appeared in his vision Draco bellowed for the twins.

"Draco!" Fred and George answered in unison.

"What a surprise," Fred added.

"We didn't expect to hear from you tonight," George continued.

"I think you did," Draco snarled. "What the fuck were you two thinking?"

"No idea." George shrugged.

"What's he on about?" Fred asked his twin.

"Don't know," George admitted.

"Don't start that shit!" Draco yelled. There was only one thing that could make his head spin worse than the Floo network and that was when the twins got started. "Tell me how to get the bloody lingerie off."

"Didn't you read the instructions?" Fred asked.

"Instructions?" Draco frowned. "Hold on a moment." He brought one of his hands through the network to keep the connection open while he asked Ginny a question.

"Did you find them?" Ginny inquired anxiously.

"Yeah, they asked if you read the instructions."

"What instructions? There weren't any. If I'd seen instructions I would_never_ have put it on," Ginny responded angrily.

Draco stuck his head back into the emerald flames. "There were no instructions," he snarled at the twins.

"I'm sure we put them in," George expressed thoughtfully. "We did, didn't we, Fred?"

"We did," Fred confirmed.

"You didn't," Draco roared. "Tell me how to get it off _now_!"

"Just give the laces a spray with the release potion," George said simply.

"What release potion?"

George turned to his brother. "You put it in, didn't you?"

"Me? I thought you did," Fred countered.

"Nope." George shook his head.

Fred looked back at Draco. "We'll have to bring over the potion to—"

"Just get over here!" Draco growled.

"Where did we put the fabric—"

"Find it and get over here," Draco snarled. "Your sister is pregnant and needs to use the lavatory, but she can't because she's stuck in that bloody thing."

"On our way!"

When he withdrew from the fireplace, Ginny was looking more uncomfortable than before. "They're on their way," Draco assured her.

"Thank goodness."

"Millie!"

"Master did—"

"Get down and watch the front doors. Mrs. Malfoy's brothers will be arriving momentarily. See that they are escorted up here without delay."

"As Master wishes."

The hurried Disapparition of the house elf caused a cloud of Floo powder dust to rise. As Draco drew in a deep breath to steady his temper he immediately began to cough. A lung full of Floo powder was the last thing he needed right now, and it only added to the growing list of reasons why Fred and George must die a painful death.

"Draco, are you all right?"

"Water," Draco rasped out.

Ginny looked at him with a pained expression. There was no way she could even think about going near running water without the risk of embarrassing herself.

"I'll get it myself," Draco choked out.

Ginny smiled tightly at him as he disappeared into their bedchamber. She wasn't game enough to even adjust her position on the seat anymore. Fred and George were going to pay for this very dearly indeed.

Just as Draco stepped back into the sitting room looking a little more relaxed, but still flushed, Millie entered the room through the other door. Before the house elf could announce the new arrivals Draco dismissed her.

Fred and George stepped into the sitting room. Both were staring at the mess, though their amusement was clearly displayed in their eyes.

"Get it off her now!" Draco demanded.

"A bit underdressed to be receiving visitors, aren't we?" Fred commented, looking Draco up and down.

"Don't you lot usually dress up all fancy when you're expecting someone?" George asked with more than a hint of mischief.

"Fred, George, this isn't funny," Ginny told them in a clearly pained voice. "Please."

"Right O, let's get you out," George announced.

"Just hurry," Ginny pleaded. She'd worry about killing them after she'd relieved herself.

"Show us the laces," Fred instructed, taking a bottle from George.

"Hang on!" Draco snatched the bottle from Fred and turned it over in his hands, but there wasn't a thing to say what the bottle contained. "There isn't anything in here that could harm them, is there?"

"Of course not!" George answered in a clearly incensed tone.

"What does he take us for?" Fred asked his brother.

"Anyone would think we weren't trustworthy," George exclaimed indignantly.

Draco glared harshly at both of them. "If anything happens—"

"Nothing is going to happen," Fred assured him, taking the bottle of potion back. "If you don't count Ginny wetting herself."

"Which I'm about to do! Hurry up!"

"Show us the laces, Gin, and we'll have you out of there in a jiffy," Fred said.

Ginny lowered the back of her bathrobe, exposing the neat bow she'd created an hour or so beforehand. A freezing blast of liquid landed squarely between her shoulder blades, and then she felt a tug on the bindings. When she realized the suit was becoming loose on her body she gathered her bathrobe around her, pushed the men out of her way and ran to the bathroom.

Draco waited for the bathroom door to slam, but the sound never came. Curious, he stuck his head inside the bedchamber and noticed that both the doors leading to the bathroom were wide open. He was about to withdraw when he heard the unmistakable sound of a relieved sigh.

"Well, we'll let you two—" Fred started.

"Resume you activities," George finished with a wicked grin.

"Not so fast, you two," Draco growled. "I cannot fathom how you could do such a thing to your sister — your _pregnant_ sister."

"It was just a joke," Fred defended.

George look affronted. "Ginny's always appreciated our sense of humor."

"Somehow, I don't think putting her in a situation where she very nearly humiliated herself will be appreciated, and that doesn't take into account the physical injuries your little prank is responsible for," Draco informed them ruthlessly.

Fred and George looked at each other, and then at Draco to question in unison, "What injuries?"

Draco held his hand up to display the enormous blisters on two of his fingers. "I got these trying to get that thing off her."

"It mustn't have occurred to him to let go when it stung him," Fred mused.

"Couldn't have," George agreed. "Mind you, any normal bloke would have let go when it hurt."

"She was starting to panic," Draco hissed. "What you did was inexcusable!"

"What do you call this ridiculous contraption?" Ginny demanded as the lingerie landed in George's face.

"Do you feel better, love?" Draco asked, fussing over her.

"Much." Ginny smiled for his benefit, and then turned a steely glare on her brothers. "What is it?"

"We call them, _Pure Prudent Pretties_," Fred announced proudly. "What do you think?"

"I think you two need your heads examined," Ginny exclaimed.

"We're working on something that will do just that," George told her.

"You wouldn't want to lend us your thoughts, so we can test our progress, would you?" Fred inquired earnestly.

"Believe me, you don't want to know what I'm thinking right now," Ginny promised.

"Do I detect a hint of malice in your tone?" Fred asked, stepping backwards.

"Oh, there's more than a hint," Ginny assured them with a cold smile. "I'm just having a hard time deciding what would be the most humiliating, painful way to deal with you two."

"Come on, Ginny, thoughts like that will only lead to long, lonely years in Azkaban," George told her in a soothing tone.

Ginny took a step towards the pair of jokesters. "It would be worth it," she whispered in a low voice.

"You know, Fred, I think she's serious."

"I don't think you're mistaken, George."

"Shall we?"

"It's the only decent thing to do," George agreed.

Draco and Ginny were so distracted by the twins' banter that they failed to notice George's hand slip into his cloak. The next thing they knew the entire room had turned pitch black.

"Bloody hell," Ginny cursed. "I'm going to kill them!"

"You wound us," floated in from the corridor.

"What have they done?" Draco asked as he tried several times to use Lumos.

"It's Instant Darkness Powder," Ginny growled. "You're wasting your time trying to light your wand. Just see if you can find the bedroom door."

After several minutes of feeling his way around Draco finally found a doorframe. He hoped it led to the bedchamber, because the absolute darkness had disorientated him quite a bit. "Ginny, I found a door."

"Is it light beyond the door?"

"Yes! It's a bit murky at the start, but it's normal after that."

"Great! Keep talking, so I can find—oww— I'm going to kill them!"

"Watch the table," Draco warned, albeit too late.

"Yeah, thanks it's a bit hard in this light," Ginny barked sarcastically.

Draco growled in the back of his throat. If they ended up having an argument tonight he was going to seriously kill them. After all, once all the facts were presented to the Wizengamot he felt confident that they'd excuse him from any wrongdoing.

"Draco, talk or something."

"Sorry, love, I got a little lost in plotting your brothers' demise."

"A painful one I hope."

"Most painful," Draco promised just as her hand brushed his chest. At least he hoped it was _her_ hand, because he couldn't actually see her. He reached out, seizing the hand and she gradually emerged from the blackness. "There you are."

"Where does the black end?"

"Come this way." Draco guided her further into their bedchamber.

"Oh, that's better," Ginny said as she sat on the edge of their bed. "My eyes actually hurt from trying to see."

"There's something wrong with those two," Draco snarled. "How can they think any of this is amusing?"

"They've always had a warped sense of humor."

"Ginny, you could have fallen over trying to get to some light just then, and Merlin only knows what would have happened if they'd stuffed up that antidote or whatever it was." Draco's stormy eyes met hers. "We don't even know if any of this will have side effects."

"Draco, calm down. You're not achieving anything by yelling at me." Ginny kept her voice even. "We won't be able to do anything about them until tomorrow, so just leave it for tonight."

"There's another thing: what if one of the children need us during the night? How are they supposed to get through the sitting room safely?"

"They'll walk through and probably not even notice."

"Why are you so calm now?" Draco asked in frustration.

"I'm not really, but it's late, I'm tired and my stomach muscles hurt. There's nothing we can do until morning, so I'll save my energy for then." Ginny paused to yawn widely. "I'm going to bed now, so I have the energy to do some serious damage to my misfit brothers tomorrow. Are you coming?"

Draco snarled and grumbled under his breath as he wandered around to his side of the bed. Not only had they been to hell and back this evening, that yawn had all but told him they wouldn't be resuming their activities. He dropped onto the bed with his back to Ginny and dragged the covers up over his shoulder.

"Goodnight, darling."

Draco grunted a response. He could hear the amusement in her tone and that did not please him at the moment. She should have been raging, plotting some form of revenge and otherwise making him feel better about the situation. Draco lifted his head, punched his pillow several times and almost threw his body back down. Ginny's hand crept over him and came to rest on his chest. The warmth from her touch was soothing and before he could finish planning the ultimate revenge his eyes drifted closed.

* * *

**_AUTHOR'S NOTE_**

_Thanks to Rainpuddle13 for her fantastic beta skills!_


	14. White Lies

**_Disclaimer_**_: I don't own any of the characters you may recognize from the wonderful world of Harry Potter, they all belong to the revered JK Rowling; I just like to play with them a little._

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

**WHITE LIES**

Draco placed his quill in its holder and leaned back in his chair, satisfied that everything he had set out to achieve today had been done to the best of his ability and that the office could survive without him for a day or so. He was rather looking forward to getting away for a few days, even if his reasons for escaping were a little shady. Well, they would be considered ambiguous if anyone else knew the full truth.

While at the Burrow on Sunday, for Percy's birthday celebration, Harry and Ron had pulled him aside to inform him that they would be making an official visit to Malfoy Manor on Friday. Draco had immediately decided that a long weekend was in order, and if it could be spent out of the country, all the better. Under the guise of having a little paperwork to do, Draco escaped to his study the moment they returned home and placed an urgent Floo call to Blaise Zabini. Without divulging his real reasons for wanting to get away for a few days, Draco was able to arrange to stay at one of his friend's properties in the Greek Islands. When he suggested that he wanted to do this before Ginny got too uncomfortable to travel, Blaise decided that he and Katarina might join the Malfoys for the three days. Draco was hardly in a position to argue the point, and besides it gave him an excellent opportunity to create a reason for going that he could pass on to Ginny. She'd been reluctant at first, but when he explained that they'd been _invited_ to spend a few days with the Zabinis and it would be indecorous to refuse such a generous offer, plus Katarina was looking forward to the weekend, Ginny caved in and agreed to go for her new friend's sake.

"Sir?"

Draco, startled out of his thoughts, came forward on his chair in a hurry. "Enter," he uttered redundantly, as she was already inside his office.

"These need your signature before you leave," his secretary informed him, passing Draco a small pile of parchment.

"Very well." Draco picked up his quill and scanned the documents quickly. "Have they been proofread?"

"Yes, sir."

He nodded and began to scrawl his signature at the bottom of each page. When he was finished he collected the papers and passed them back to the waiting woman. "Is that all?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. I'll be off then." Draco stood up behind his desk. "I won't be available at all, so if there are any problems you can direct them to my father."

"Yes, sir."

"I'll see you Monday morning."

"Have a lovely weekend, sir."

"Thank you," Draco intoned as he reached for his traveling cloak.

After slinging his cloak around his shoulders, Draco picked up his briefcase and strolled out of his office. As he entered the corridor he wasn't surprised to see Lucius striding towards him. "Father."

"You're leaving?"

"Yes, we have an International Portkey."

"Of course." Lucius nodded thoughtfully. "Where is it that you're going again?"

"Palestrikaeo," Draco supplied. "The precise details are on my desk at home and, if you can't locate them, Harry knows how to contact me."

"Potter?"

"Yes, Father, I told him just in case." Draco lowered his voice deliberately. "That way if anything comes to light it doesn't look like I'm running away."

"I see."

Draco only just resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "It's a small price to pay for the favor he and Ron did for us."

"Yes, yes, I suppose."

"We'll see you Sunday evening then," Draco said.

"Do have fun," Lucius drawled.

Draco knew his father wasn't pleased with the fact that he was leaving the country for a few days. Lucius had even argued that Ginny would eventually find out that they were still subject to raids from time to time and that it was better that she know from the start. It was a logical argument, but Draco still didn't want to subject his wife or children to witnessing a raid. "I intend to."

As he walked away, Draco heard his father growl deep in his throat, and then he did roll his eyes. It wasn't like being out of the country was going to exonerate him from any responsibility if they did turn up something in the raid, which was precisely the reason he made sure Harry had their itinerary and contact details. Now that he was master of the manor he would be held responsible, perhaps solely responsible, though he doubted Harry and Ron would take such a hard line with him when they know anything they might find would have been in the house from his childhood or even earlier — at least he hoped not.

* * *

Draco was greeted with ear-piercing squeals of delight as he arrived in the foyer of his home. Drake and Angel were bouncing around, trying to hug him and announcing their delight at his arrival loud enough to wake many generations of their very dead ancestors. Somewhere amid the melee a house elf arrived to divest him of his cloak and brief case.

"Calm down, you two," Draco begged. "Angel, let me go, so I can get my cloak off."

Once free of children, Draco shrugged his cloak off and passed his brief case to the waiting servant. His freedom didn't last long, as the twins launched themselves excitedly at him again.

"Darling, you're home," Narcissa intoned a little louder than normal so she could be heard over the din.

"It would appear so, Mother," Draco responded with a happy grin.

"I believe Ginevra is upstairs checking on the last of the packing," Narcissa supplied.

"Good, we need to leave in an hour."

Narcissa's forehead wrinkled ever so slightly at Drake's attempts to get his father's attention, but she said nothing to her grandson. "The children have been very excitable all day."

"I've a feeling their excitement has been building since we told them we were going away for the weekend," Draco responded before looking at his son. "Yes, Drake?"

"Are we going soon, Daddy?"

"Yes, mate, we're leaving soon, so you'd better check that you've packed everything."

"Mummy wouldn't let me pack," Drake complained.

"I can't imagine why," Draco replied with a hint of sarcasm.

"She didn't pack my broomstick or my Quidditch stadium or anything I wanted," Drake continued.

"Well, we're only going for three days, so I'm sure you can live without those things."

Drake sighed tragically, as if the mere thought of leaving his most prized possessions at home was already taking its toll on his very will to live.

Angel rolled her eyes at her brother's antics. "Mummy only let me take three dresses."

"Only three?" Draco exclaimed theatrically. "The pain you must be in!"

"Daddy!" Angel stomped her little foot on the marble floor.

"Come on, let's see if Mummy has finished packing your _scant_ possessions." Draco tried to herd the twins up the staircase ahead of him, but they each attached themselves to one of his hands. "Mother, we will see you before we leave."

"Are you taking a servant with you?"

"Yes, Millie will be accompanying us, for the twins' sake more than anything."

"Very well. I will be in my summer parlor." Narcissa turned on her heel and glided away.

Draco released the oxygen in his lungs in a long sigh. Between the children's excitement and the general stress his parents were under at the moment, he was beginning to feel rather weary. The sooner they were on their way the better he decided as he mounted the stairs.

He found his wife in their chambers adding to an already full suitcase. "Perhaps we should take some trunks?" Draco suggested cheekily as he entered.

"Thank goodness you're here," Ginny expressed as she accepted his light kiss. "Right, I need you to sit on the lid, so I can snap the locks shut."

"Ginevra," Draco started seriously, after eyeing what she was trying to cram into one suitcase. "Is it really necessary to bring all of this?"

"You never know what the weather is going to do, and I assume we'll be expected to dress for dinner," Ginny explained, frustration tainting her tone.

"Love, we're going on holidays, so if we don't want to dress for dinner we don't have to. Do you remember when we didn't _dress_ for dinner on our honeymoon?" Draco grinned wickedly at the memory. They had decided to order room service one night, after spending the entire day shopping, and when it arrived they'd only just gotten out of the bath, so rather than allowing their meals to go cold they decided to eat right away, however, by the time they reached the small table in their suite both their towels had gone missing in action. As that particular meal progressed, he had discovered that table napkins strategically placed over one's lap were a necessity to protect certain extremely tender body parts from hot food accidentally dropped off one's fork.

"We are going with Blaise and Katarina, remember?" Ginny eyed her husband with an expression that was somewhere between amusement and disgust. "Somehow I don't think eating dinner err— like that would impress our hosts."

"This is_ Blaise_ we're talking about," Draco pointed out. "He'll probably have to be reminded continuously to put pants on."

"Should I pack a blindfold then?"

"And maybe some rope," Draco added cheekily, running his hand across her derriere suggestively.

"What do you need rope for?" Drake asked with a confused expression on his face.

"To tie you up," Draco growled playfully as he tipped his son over his shoulder to a gale of screams.

"If you lot are going to play around you can go do it elsewhere," Ginny chided futilely.

Drake's squeals filled the room as Draco started to tickle him. The little boy was squirming so much that Draco almost dropped him. Angel joined in the production by adding a few well-pitched screams of her own. Draco glanced at Ginny and noticed that she looked decidedly unimpressed. Her foot was tapping the floor aggressively and her eyes were as frosty as a Scottish winter. He quickly placed his son on his feet and straightened up. "Sorry, love."

"Do you think we can save the silly behavior until after we're ready to go?" Ginny asked.

"Of course." Draco grinned charmingly at her, but he had a slightly uneasy feeling that his efforts had gone unappreciated. "Now what was it you wanted me to do?"

Ginny pointed to the suitcase. "Sit on it."

Rather than argue the point when he was, apparently, on the verge of being out of favor with his wife, Draco sat on the luggage, forcing it closed. Before Ginny could take care of the locks, Draco leaned forward and snapped them closed, then cast a charm to keep the case locked. "Is there anything else?"

"No, the twins are all packed. Your case is over there. Mine was the last," Ginny uttered uncertainly as she glanced around.

"Where are the twins' suitcases?"

"In their sitting rooms."

"Millie," Draco called.

"Master?"

"Collect Drake and Angel's luggage from their sitting rooms and transfer it to the foyer ready for our departure, then come back for ours."

"Yes, Master."

"I told Mother we'd see her before we leave, so perhaps we could collect our cloaks and visit her before it gets too late."

"All right," Ginny agreed. "Go and get your traveling cloaks," she said to the children. "I put them on the chairs next to your suitcases."

Angel stared at her mother in horror. "Millie can get mine."

"Millie is busy with your luggage," Draco pointed out. "Now go and get your cloak."

The little witch widened her eyes momentarily at her father and opened her mouth to say something, but then thought the better of it and left the room without another word.

"Are you going to change?" Ginny asked Draco.

"No, I'll just go as I am," Draco responded. "Is this your cloak?"

"Yes, where's yours?"

"A servant took it when I arrived. I'll get Millie to locate it when she's finished with the luggage." Draco picked up Ginny's cloak and draped it over his arm. "Shall we?"

"All right," Ginny answered tentatively, glancing around the room.

"What is it?"

"I feel like I've forgotten something."

"Whatever it is, if it's anything, we can buy it," Draco promised.

"Okay." Ginny nodded and gave him a small smile.

"Come on, let's go and say goodbye, so we can get there and start relaxing."

When they stepped into the corridor, Drake and Angel were moving towards them with their traveling cloaks in hand.

"We'll leave our cloaks in the foyer while we visit your grandmother," Draco instructed as the children passed he and Ginny.

"Mum sent over a list of the photographs she wants to order," Ginny said as they started towards the staircase.

"At last," Draco muttered. He was feeling a little put out about the wedding photographs, because it seemed everyone else had had the chance to look at them except him. Ginny had taken them over to her mother the day after her birthday and had left them there, so Molly could decide which ones she wanted. He'd watched the leather albums being passed around on Sunday, when they attended Percy's birthday luncheon, yet he still didn't get to look at a single photograph.

"I think Hermione and Pansy went through them as well."

"Your entire family went through them," Draco stated. "They had time to do an in depth study of each photograph."

"They probably did."

"So, how many does she want?"

"Quite a few."

"How many?"

"Too many to count at a glance."

Draco closed his eyes and took a deep breath. They'd offered to pay for any photographs Molly wanted, but he had the distinct feeling she had added on what other family members wanted. "Fine, whatever she wants," he ground out.

"I'll talk to Colin and see if we can't work something out."

"Don't worry about it. We made the offer, so we'll pay for whatever is on the list."

"Drake, don't drop your cloak on the floor," Ginny said as they descended the staircase. "Place it neatly on one of the chairs, so it's not crushed when it's time to put it on."

The little wizard rolled his eyes and huffed impatiently as he picked his cloak up and dropped it onto a chintz chair.

"Thank you," Ginny said in an overly happy tone.

Angel fussily laid her cloak on top of Drake's and headed in the direction of Narcissa's parlor. Draco chose another chair to lay Ginny's cloak across. While he was bent over straightening the cloak out, so it wouldn't wrinkle, Millie Apparated into the chamber with a loud pop, making him jump.

"Millie, fetch my traveling cloak when you've taken care of the luggage and do it a little quieter," Draco growled.

The servant bowed low enough to scrape her nose on the marble floor. "As Master wishes."

"We'd better catch up with the twins before they upset Mother," Draco said, taking Ginny's arm.

"Upset her?"

"When I arrived home, she told me they'd been very excitable all day."

Ginny nodded. "They have. I actually sent them to visit her after lunch, so I could get the packing finished without interruption. Maybe I shouldn't have done that."

"It's all right, she's got three days to recover," Draco said.

Ginny laughed lightly. "If they don't let up we're going to need a holiday to get over this one."

"You'll get one," Draco promised.

"Will I?" Ginny asked doubtfully.

"Of course, Miss Sheehan is arriving on Monday, isn't she?"

"Yes, I'd almost forgotten." Ginny bit her lip thoughtfully. "I need to check her rooms."

"I'm sure we can leave that in the hands of the servants," Draco replied.

"But I'd like to make sure—"

"Shh, we'll instruct the servants to take care of it and have Mother check their progress Sunday morning, then you can make certain everything is to your liking when we arrive home Sunday evening."

"Okay," Ginny conceded. "We'd best keep up with those two."

"I agree."

Draco set a furious pace with his long legs. The twins had seemingly disappeared. When they turned into the corridor that Narcissa's favorite summer parlor ran off, Draco only just spied his children as they went charging into the parlor.

"Grandmother! We're going soon!"

Draco cringed as Drake's voice thundered out into the corridor. When he arrived in the doorway, his mother was sitting with her hand resting on her chest, a clear sign that she'd been startled. "Drake, we don't charge into rooms bellowing at the top of our voices," Draco said sternly. "My apologies, Mother."

Narcissa waved a hand dismissively at her son. "He's excited. You used to get the same way whenever we were preparing to travel."

"That doesn't excuse his poor manners."

"Perhaps not, but it does provide him with a viable reason at five-years-old," Narcissa informed her son. "Enough of this talk. Do you have time for a cup of tea, Ginevra?"

"No, I don't think we do, but please don't let us stop you."

Narcissa smiled at her daughter-in-law, and then ordered tea for one.

"Is Grandfather coming home?" Angel asked, looking around the parlor as if she expected Lucius to arrive at any given moment.

"No, he's not," Draco answered, immediately bracing himself for a protest.

Angel's eyes began to fill with tears. "He has to say goodbye."

"Sweetheart, we're only going for three days," Ginny reminded her daughter softly. "You'll see him on Sunday night."

"I want to see him now!"

"He's at the office and he can't come home," Draco said a little more sternly than he'd intended. The last thing he wanted to deal with were tears from Angel over something so trivial.

"Perhaps it might be an idea to leave a few minutes early," Narcissa suggested.

"I think that's a great idea," Ginny said firmly. "If we're moving she won't have time to dwell on absent parties."

"Drake, say goodbye to Grandmother," Draco instructed.

The little boy, who had been silent since his earlier scolding, flew into Narcissa's open arms.

"Have a wonderful little holiday, darling," Narcissa expressed. "I'm going to miss you."

Drake frowned over his grandmother's shoulder. "We'll be back on Sunday."

"I know, darling." Narcissa sniffed lightly.

"Angel, say your goodbyes," Draco whispered. He wanted to add, _'before your grandmother dissolves into tears,'_ but thought the better of it.

The moment Narcissa's arms loosened around him, Drake escaped and went to stand near the doorway.

"I'll tell Grandfather that you said goodbye. I'm sure he'll be devastated when he discovers that he missed you."

Angel nodded and sniffed affectedly.

"Have a wonderful time, darling. The Greek Islands are enchanting at this time of the year."

"Will you miss me?"

"Dreadfully so," Narcissa intoned genuinely. "However, I'm looking forward to taking tea with you on Monday and hearing all about your adventure."

Angel's eyes brightened immediately as the promise of a tea party overshadowed Lucius' absence.

"Oh, Narcissa, would you mind checking the tutor's quarters on Sunday morning? She's arriving on Monday," Ginny said in a rush.

"Of course."

"Thank you. I'll instruct the servants to have the rooms ready before then," Ginny responded gratefully.

"Don't worry about a thing," Narcissa assured her. "I'll inform the servants of what is required."

"Thank you."

"You just enjoy your long weekend." Narcissa smiled warmly, and then directed her attention back to Angel. "And I will see you for tea on Monday."

"Yes, Grandmother," Angel responded happily.

"Shall we?" Draco motioned towards the door in the hope that Ginny and Angel might start moving in that general direction.

"Yes, of course," Ginny responded. "Angel, go and wait with Drake."

As soon as Angel had moved away, Narcissa stood up and embraced Ginny lightly, placing a dry kiss on her cheek. "Have a lovely time."

"I'm sure we will," Ginny answered.

Draco moved forward as soon as Ginny had stepped away. He embraced his mother and kissed her cheek. "We'll see you on Sunday night."

Narcissa smiled tightly and nodded her head. Her blue eyes, now unveiled, showed uneasiness in this private moment with her son.

"Everything will be fine," Draco whispered into her ear, under the guise of embracing her again. "Harry has instructions to contact me if anything should happen."

"We'll be all right," Narcissa whispered in reply. "Now go and have some fun with your family."

Guilt pooled in his stomach like poison. Draco knew he should be here while the Aurors searched the manor, but he just couldn't bring himself to put Ginny or the children thought something like that. With a curt nod, because words were failing him at the moment, he turned on his heel and joined his family. He heard his mother exhale loudly as she sat down in her chair again, and it felt like all the air in his lungs was being expelled with her sigh.

"Is everything all right?" Ginny asked with concern.

"Fine," Draco answered automatically. "Let's just get going."

"Okay," Ginny replied, watching her husband skeptically.

Draco smiled broadly for Ginny's benefit as they walked back to the foyer where Millie was waiting with the luggage.

Once everyone had their traveling cloaks secured around their necks, Draco sent Millie off with the luggage and the family followed just seconds later.

* * *

The Ministry was buzzing with activity, forcing Draco and Ginny to keep the twins close. Draco cursed the fact that he'd not had time to arrange a Portkey to leave directly from the house, not that it helped their current situation. He was thankful that Millie stayed close; in fact, she was walking so close to him that when he paused to yield to a rather aggressive Ministry memo she ran into his legs.

"Millie is most sorry, Master," the servant uttered as she tried to bow submissively.

Draco grunted, but didn't admonish the house elf. After all, she had their luggage, and he had instructed her to stay close. He ushered his family up to the security wizard and handed over their travel documents, with his wand. Ginny's wand clattered into the tray next to his a mere second later.

The security wizard perused their papers and handed them back with a sneer. "All right for some."

Draco's eyes narrowed on the man, but he didn't bother to respond. The man was a plebian and not worthy of his time. As soon as their wands had been returned, Draco urged the family to the lifts.

The twins were staring shamelessly at all that was going on around them. Even though several members of the extended family worked for the Ministry, they'd not visited often enough to remove the awe from the experience. When the lift began to draw close to them the clattering of the chains drew their undivided attention.

The moment the golden grille of the lift started to open Draco made sure he had a hand on each of his children, ready to guide the into the lift and to make sure they didn't get swept away by those disembarking. He heard Millie squeak from behind him, as a flood of people flowed past the group waiting to embark. If the noise wasn't enough to remind him of her presence, Millie pressed her body into the back of his legs causing Draco to adjust his stance.

The moment the way was clear, Draco all but pushed his children into the lift. Ginny had expertly negotiated her way through the crowd and found her way to his side. Millie followed Draco at very close quarters, almost walking under his cloak. They were crushed into the corner of the small moving room, but at least they were on their way to their departure point. The grilles couldn't have closed a moment too soon as the lift was filled to capacity and still more people were trying to board.

_"Level seven, Department of Magical Games and Sports, incorporating the British and Irish Quidditch League Headquarters, Official Gobstones Club, and Ludicrous Patents Office."_

"Quidditch?" Drake questioned as the lift ground to a halt and some people exited. "Can we get off here, Daddy?"

"Not today, Drake," Draco answered with a grin. He might have known that the mere mention of the wizarding sport would get his son's attention.

_"Level six, Department of Magical Transport, incorporating the Floo Network Authority, Broom Regulatory Control, Portkey Office, and Apparition Test Center."_

"This is us," Draco announced as he pushed the twins forward towards the opening doors. "Millie, come!"

Before he moved, Draco placed his hand on Ginny's back and guided her in front of him. The corridor, though only a few feet away, seemed to be miles away. It took them several minutes to find their way through the crowd and out of the confined space, but they eventually found themselves standing in the corridor watching the lift move upwards.

Draco looked up and down the corridor. "Right, this way," he ordered, leading his family towards the Portkey Office.

They'd no sooner stepped over the threshold of the office than Pansy appeared before them looking excited.

"Are you looking forward to your break?" Pansy asked as they approached.

"Yes, it's going to be wonderful," Ginny answered. "Are you settling in all right?"

"There's a bit of work to be done, but we're getting there," Pansy admitted.

Ron and Pansy had finally moved into the house Pansy's father had offered them, and while the house itself was sound, it hadn't been lived in for several generations, so there was a fair bit of redecorating to be done.

"I can give you the name of our decorator, if you like," Draco offered. "He did an amazing job of our wing and in a timely manner as well."

"No thanks," Pansy answered with a smile. "Ron is intent on doing it all himself."

"Insanity," Draco muttered under his breath.

Pansy tried to eye her old friend dangerously, but her expression held too much delight. "Maybe so, but at least he'll know he did it on his own when it's done, which is more than you can say."

Draco wisely didn't respond. He was still deciding if his brother-in-law genuinely wanted to redecorate the house himself or if he was just doing it because their funds weren't sufficient to hire a professional.

"Anyway, we're going to have a house warming party when it's finished," Pansy continued. "You will be attending."

"We'd love to," Ginny said.

"Whenever he gets it finished, we'll be there," Draco intoned sincerely. "Of course, you won't mind if our great-great-grandchildren accompany us, will you?"

"You should come over and see what he's accomplished so far," Pansy dared. "I think you'd be surprised."

"I might just do that," Draco responded, checking his pocket watch thoughtfully. "Time is growing—"

"Let's get you on your way to the Greek Islands." Pansy led them to a private lounge area set aside for international travelers who paid the levy to use the facility. "Where are your travel documents?"

Draco pulled out a sheaf of parchment from his cloak pocket and handed them to Pansy. "You'll find everything is in order."

Pansy smirked at him. "I'm sure I will." She opened the parchment up and began to read, but a frown crossed her forehead not long after she started.

"Is there something wrong?" Ginny inquired.

"Do you really want to go through the Greek Ministry or would you rather go directly to your final destination?"

"Directly, but it was difficult to arrange at the last minute," Draco confirmed.

"Let me see what I can do." Pansy smiled, and then left the room.

"Make yourselves comfortable," Draco told his family. "This is our lounge for the time being."

"This is something else," Ginny said as she looked around.

The room was decorated tastefully, but in what appeared to be a very expensive fashion. A room like this seemed totally out of place in the Ministry of Magic and would be better suited to a home like Malfoy Manor.

"They accommodate us quite well while we're waiting to travel," Draco admitted. "But they do charge extra for the privilege."

"I'm sure," Ginny uttered.

"You know you really should know better than to let anyone else plan your travel, Draco," Pansy said as she re-entered the room. "I've managed to get you a direct Portkey this time, but I won't be able to do that every time you mess it up."

"Thank you," Draco responded tightly. The notion that she thought he'd messed up the travel plans irked him a little, because at the time he took the most direct route available to them without going through any extra trouble.

"You're welcome," Pansy replied sweetly. "Now, you're traveling direct from here to the Zabini property in Palestrikaeo, and I've changed your return Portkey to take you from Blaise's straight home."

"Thank you so much, Pansy," Ginny said genuinely.

"I owe you," Draco mumbled.

Pansy grinned nefariously at her friend. "That you do."

Draco rolled his eyes comically, but couldn't quite hide the shudder of dread that ran through him given her expression. He could see himself being put to work with her husband getting their home ready for the arrival of their baby.

"I'll let you know when and where," Pansy continued.

"You do that," Draco answered, promising himself that he'd find something else to be busy with at the time.

"Here are your revised documents and new Portkeys. This yellow one is for now and the blue one is for the return leg."

Draco accepted the package, his eyes passing over the oddly shaped Portkeys. They appeared to be wooden discs with no real definition of shape.

Pansy pointed to the blue Portkey. "If you hold it the right way up it's actually shaped like Britain, and the other one is in the shape of Corfu, the island—"

"I do know where Palestrikaeo is situated," Draco pointed out.

"Well, that's what they are, so there's no confusion about which Portkey will take you where."

"Labeling them would have been too simple, wouldn't it?" Draco asked.

Pansy sent Draco a derisive look and didn't respond to his question. "You have less than five minutes now, so I suggest you start getting ready to leave."

"Thank you for everything you've done," Ginny said, hugging her future sister-in-law briefly.

"You're welcome. Have fun and enjoy the break," Pansy replied warmly.

Draco cleared his throat, so the words wouldn't stick as he tried to talk. "Thank you, Pansy," he intoned sincerely as he embraced her and placed a kiss on her temple.

"It was a pleasure," she assured him.

"Yes, well let's get organized then," Draco muttered, stepping away from his old friend. "Drake and Angel, come over here. Millie, make sure you're holding on and don't drop the luggage."

"Have fun!" Pansy moved to stand near the door, so she wouldn't get caught up in the vortex of the Portkey.

Draco made certain everyone was touching the Portkey before looking up just in time to flash a brilliant smile at Pansy, who was waving them on their way.

* * *

They'd landed a short distance from the imposing front doors of the huge, white beachside house. Draco had instinctively reached out to catch Angel before she went sprawling. Drake, however, ended up some feet away from the rest of the family, landing firmly on his backside with a loud complaint. Ginny steadied herself on Draco, so she wouldn't fall over.

"Right there, love?" Draco asked, concern tainting his tone.

Ginny smiled at him. "Yes, just lost my balance for a moment."

"Drake, pick yourself up," Draco instructed.

"It hurts," the little wizard countered.

Millie instantly dropped the luggage and ran over to her little master, fussing over him until he was on his feet with a smile on his face again.

"Better?" Draco questioned.

"Yep."

"Good. Shall we announce our arrival?" Draco looked towards the house just as the front doors opened.

Katarina all but floated down the stairs towards them. "I'm so glad you're finally here!"

"It's good to be here," Ginny exclaimed as she greeted her friend. "I can't believe how beautiful it is. That view is worth a fortune."

"I don't think I'll ever tire of it," Katarina admitted, taking in the breathtaking view of the ocean.

"Millie, you can take our luggage inside and perhaps deposit them in the rooms we are to use while here," Draco instructed.

"Oh yes, just see the kitchen elves and they'll point you in the right direction," Katarina added. "Children, why don't you explore a little?"

"Can we really?" Drake asked excitedly, waiting for confirmation from his parents.

"Yes, but don't go too far," Ginny warned.

"I want to be able to see you at all times," Draco instructed firmly. "And no deeper than your toes in the water," he added as the twins ran directly for the water.

"Welcome to the life of the rich and infamous," Blaise boomed as he joined the small group on the front lawn.

Draco snorted. "More like the shrewd and scheming."

"Hey, I resent that remark," Blaise protested good-naturedly.

"I don't know why." Draco feigned innocence. "I was referring to your mother, not you."

Blaise smirked proudly. "She's quite a woman, isn't she?"

"Oh yeah, just as long as you don't marry her."

"Am I missing something?" Ginny asked, a little confused.

"Blaise's mother has been married... How many times is it now?" Draco asked.

"Lost count after ten, mate," Blaise admitted nonchalantly.

Ginny's eyes widened so much they almost popped out of her head. "Your mother collects husbands?"

"Nah, she collects houses," Blaise corrected. "She generally disposes of the husbands."

"I—err—" Ginny could think of nothing to say that wouldn't appear rude or derogatory.

"It's all right, Ginny," Blaise assured her with a wink. "You're perfectly safe, unless you marry her. This little gem—" Blaise swung his arms around to indicate the house. "—was a_gift_ from husband number six, I think."

"A gift?"

"It's her little term for what she inherits."

"Oh." Ginny nodded and smiled a little uncomfortably.

"Don't listen to their nonsense," Katarina insisted. "They're just being silly."

"Silly?" Draco choked out. "I'd ask her ex-husbands if they thought we were being _silly_, but they're a little hard of hearing now that they're _all_ dead."

Katarina rolled her eyes expressively. "Most of them were hard of hearing_before_ they died. Come on, Ginny, we'll have some tea, and then I'll give you the grand tour."

"Sounds lovely." Ginny looked at Draco just before she followed Katarina. "Make sure you don't take your eyes off the twins."

"I won't, love," Draco promised.

Katarina linked arms with Ginny as they strolled towards the house. "My mother-in-law has a thing for older men, much older men, and then when they pass on everyone thinks something wicked has taken place. Of course, the Ministry investigates every time she's widowed, but they've never been able to prove any foul play."

"Old men?" Ginny frowned.

"Really old, wrinkly men." Katarina shuddered visibly. "I don't know how she does it."

"Actually, I don't think she does _it_ exactly," Ginny said before she could stop herself.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, nothing," Ginny answered quickly, hoping that Katarina would let the subject drop.

"Come on, you said something. Details!"

"I shouldn't... It's just something I heard—"

"From who?" Katarina pressed.

"I really shouldn't be repeating—"

Katarina stopped just before they entered the house. "Ginny, believe me, if I knew for certain she wasn't— well, she wasn't doing _that_ with her husbands I'd feel a whole lot better."

"I don't suppose me assuring you that she isn't would be enough, would it?"

"Nope. You're going to have to give me the gossip."

Ginny sighed, cursing herself for opening her mouth in the first place. "All right, but not a word to Blaise."

"I promise."

"Narcissa told me that she has many younger men that she entertains for that purpose alone."

"She has affairs?"

"Apparently."

"That explains a lot then." Katarina linked arms with Ginny again and began walking into the house. "At least now I'll be able to look at her without imagining her doing the unthinkable with some hundred-year-old wrinkled prune."

Blaise and Draco looked at each other as their wives disappeared into the house.

"Merlin bless the wind blowing in the right direction," Blaise said with a chuckle.

Draco smirked. "It's just like old times."

"How much information did we get from hovering near your mother's parlor?"

"More than we bargained for most of the time," Draco admitted, shaking his head ruefully.

As young lads, Draco and Blaise had taken to hiding near Narcissa Malfoy's parlor doors whenever they thought something interesting might be going on. They had often gleaned more gossip than they were truly interested in, but once in position they couldn't escape without detection.

"So Mother's little indiscretions are no longer a secret." Blaise sighed heavily.

"Were they ever?" Draco asked.

Blaise shrugged casually. "Not really, but Katarina didn't need to know."

"She didn't seem all that bothered."

"That's true."

"Whom is your mother running around with at the moment? Anyone we know?"

"Nah, he's French or something and all of about nineteen."

Draco snorted indignantly. "He won't last long."

"Most likely not, but for now he's keeping up with her."

"She told you that?" Draco stared at his friend, clearly aghast.

"She tells me_everything_."

"I couldn't think of anything worse," Draco mumbled in disgust.

"You learn to turn off after a while." Blaise chuckled and slapped his mate on the shoulder. "We should probably see where your kids have gotten to."

"Where are they?" Draco spun around in a panic that escalated when his eyes didn't land on the pair. "They were right there."

"They've probably just wandered a little. They couldn't have gone far," Blaise assured him.

"You don't know Drake very well," Draco muttered as he strode off towards the water. "Drake! Angel!"

When his feet hit the white sand of the beach, Draco turned one way first and then the other. Relief flooded through him when he spotted his twins just a short was up the beach on the sand.

"There you go. Nothing to worry about," Blaise said as he joined Draco.

He cast a withering glance at his friend. "Drake! Angel!"

"Daddy! Look at what we found," Drake shrieked as he ran up to his father.

"Look at the pretty shells, Daddy," Angel insisted, holding her hands out for his inspection.

"Listen, I told both of you not to wander out of my sight," Draco said sternly. "You must not, under any circumstances, leave my view."

"We were just collecting shells," Drake countered quietly.

"You should have let me know that you wanted to do that and I'd have come with you," Draco pointed out with a little frustration.

"They're back now," Blaise interjected. "Why don't we just let it go?"

Draco took a deep breath and reminded himself that his friend had a lot to learn about being around children. "Because if I let it go before they understand that what they did was wrong, they'll just do it again and perhaps come to grief next time."

"They won't do it again. Right, kids?" Blaise looked at the twins expectantly.

Drake and Angel nodded furiously to confirm their compliance.

"See?" Blaise posed.

"Can you just let me handle this?" Draco growled. "They need to understand what they did was wrong."

Blaise stepped between Draco and the twins. His expression was serious as he examined Draco's face. "I don't believe it! You're channeling your father."

"Don't be ridiculous," Draco snapped.

"You are! Lucius, come out and talk to me," Blaise beckoned humorously.

Draco snarled at his friend, but it was to no avail. Blaise was teasing him mercilessly and encouraging the twins to find his efforts to make them see the error of their ways funny. "Fine!" Draco held his hands up in surrender. "I give up!"

"It's about time," Blaise exclaimed. "I was beginning to think I was going to have to resort to tickling you."

"You wouldn't," Draco hissed menacingly.

Blaise smirked wickedly. "You know I would."

Draco started to mutter under his breath about mates and enemies, but he was ignored for the most part.

"How about we all go for a swim?" Blaise suggested.

Even if Draco had wanted to say no, he couldn't have been heard over the din the twins were supplying as their excitement peaked.

"Get that look off your face," Blaise ordered. "We're going for a swim!"

"What look?" Draco snapped defensively.

"The one that's saying no," Blaise pointed out. "Come on, kids, let's go and find your swimsuits."

Draco watched as his children ran off, hand in hand, with Blaise. He shook his head in defeat, and then followed at a more sedate pace. It seemed they were going into the water, whether or not he felt like a swim. By the time he reached the house, Blaise was nowhere in sight, so Draco had to summon Millie to find out where their chambers were located.

As he approached the rooms Millie had directed him to, he could hear the children excitedly changing in the rooms just a little further down the corridor. Much to his relief, Draco discovered that Millie or one of the Zabini servants had unpacked their luggage, so after only a short search of the drawers Draco found his swimming trunks. After he'd changed he found the corridor eerily quiet. A quick check of the other rooms confirmed what he suspected: the children had returned to the lower levels of the house. If his feet touched the floor on his way out of the house it was only when he almost tripped as he flew down the staircase. With fear just about consuming him, Draco burst through the front doors, only to come to an abrupt halt.

"No need to hurry, mate," Blaise said with a chuckle. "We weren't going anywhere without you."

"The children— I thought— didn't know—" Draco stammered as he tried to catch his breath.

"I told them to meet me at the bottom of the stairs inside," Blaise explained. "We decided to wait for you out here."

Draco nodded and muttered a weak thank you, well aware that his children were now staring at him like he'd taken leave of his senses. He cleared his throat and dragged his thoughts back from the nightmare they'd been entertaining. "Let's go for a swim," he suggested as evenly as he could.

As the twins took off for the shoreline, Blaise fell into step beside Draco. "Is everything all right?"

"Yeah," Draco mumbled.

"You don't look all right," Blaise pointed out.

Draco stopped walking, glanced at his children, who were playing on the sand, and then looked at his friend. "They were upstairs when I arrived to get changed, but by the time I changed they were gone. I didn't know whether you told them not to go into the water or ... Well, they don't swim strongly."

"Mate, I'd never let anything happen to your kids."

A tight smile stretched across Draco's mouth. He knew Blaise wouldn't do anything deliberately to hurt the twins, but his casual attitude could very well be the cause of an accident.

"Sure, I don't have as much experience as you with kids, but I do have some commonsense." Blaise paused to grin brilliantly at the blond. "Besides, I've had Kat in my ear all week about the kids and the water, and any number of things that could befall them here."

"Really?"

"Yeah. She actually wanted me to put a ward around the house, so they couldn't wander."

"We have a ward at home," Draco admitted.

"Where?"

"Outside their playroom and the family parlor. Without it they can't go outside without supervision."

Blaise frowned. "Why not?"

"Ginny won't let them," Draco reasoned.

"Good enough."

"She's afraid of them wandering too far and the lake is too close for her to feel comfortable."

"Daddy!" Drake bellowed.

"We're coming," Draco responded. "We'd best get down there before Drake decided he's waited long enough."

"Chip off the old block, is he?"

"So my father keeps reminding me."

Blaise snorted with laughter. "That's poetic justice."

"I'd be careful if I were you," Draco warned. "You could have a son just like yourself or worse... a _daughter_."

The dark-haired wizard's eyes opened wide as he blanched. "Don't go there."

"You'll have to consider it," Draco commented as he walked off.

"No, I don't," Blaise insisted, upon catching up to Draco. "My kids are going to be saints."

Draco snorted indignantly. "So you're not going to sire any offspring then?"

"You're so funny, Malfoy."

"That's odd." Draco frowned. "I was being serious."

Apart from sending Draco a scathing glance, Blaise ignored his comment and instead scooped Drake up over his shoulder. He raced towards the blue-green water with the now shrieking little boy.

Angel stared in horror at what the other wizard was doing to her brother. Her eyes had sharpened and she appeared not to be breathing, until she began to scream.

Drake's squeals of protest filled the air right up until the moment he broke through the surface of the water. He emerged, coughing and spluttering and trying to cling onto Blaise.

"Calm down, little man. I'm not going to let you drown," Blaise said as he hoisted the floundering little boy above the waterline.

"Angel, that's enough!" Draco demanded. His eardrums were about to burst with the sheer volume his daughter was reaching. "Drake is just fine. Look!"

"He—" Angel hiccupped. "Dra—"

"He's just fine. Blaise was just having some fun with him," Draco assured her as he gathered her in his strong arms. "Now, why don't we join them?"

"Don't drop me," Angel warned, her eyes still brimming with tears for her brother.

"I promise," Draco said sincerely.

As Draco neared his friend and son all he could hear was Drake pleading with Blaise to throw him again.

"Again, please? Please, Mr. Za— Blai—" Drake frowned.

"How about we go with Uncle Blaise?" Draco suggested evenly.

Blaise shook his head. "Blaise is fine."

"Yeah, until my mother hears one of the kids call you that. I'm afraid you're stuck with the very respectable Uncle Blaise."

The dark haired wizard frowned, and then pulled a face. "I feel old."

Draco chuckled lightly.

Drake felt around Blaise's face, and then very deliberately looked into the man's eyes. "You are old."

Angel squealed when Draco almost dropped her as he doubled over with laughter.

"Did you hear what your son just said?" Blaise demanded good-naturedly.

Draco cleared his throat and sobered himself as best he could. "Drake, that wasn't very polite."

"Sorry," Drake mumbled.

"You should address people respectfully," Draco continued, still trying not to snort with laughter.

Drake turned to face Blaise again. "You are old, Uncle Blaise." The little boy looked back to his father. "Is that better?"

Draco was unable to answer. There didn't seem to be enough air in his lungs to breathe effectively, let alone speak at this point, and then he did the unthinkable: he dropped Angel into the water.

"Drake, can you swim a bit?" Blaise asked hurriedly as he was already reaching for the little girl.

"Of course," Drake answered indignantly. "I swim—"

"Good," Blaise cut Drake off and tossed him into the water, then lunged to pick the flailing little witch.

Angel came out of the water coughing and spluttering and looking absolutely murderous. She pinned her still overly amused father with a look that would have turned a more concerned man to ash. "My hair is wet!"

As Draco didn't seem to be in any condition to take his daughter's claim seriously at the moment, Blaise foolishly thought he would try to quell the little one's fire before she got out of hand. "You usually get wet hair when you go swimming, Angel."

The little girl turned her steely eyes on her father's friend. "I was _not_ ready to get my hair wet."

"Well, I—err—" Blaise stammered, fighting hard to find a counter argument and failing miserably.

"Daddy promised and he dropped me!"

"I'm sure he didn't—" Blaise stopped as something tugged sharply on his shorts. He turned to find Drake clinging to his only item of clothing, an item that was suddenly not covering enough of what it should have been. "Drake, mate, let go a minute. You're stripping me."

"I need to hang on," Drake responded determinedly.

"Malfoy! For Merlin's sake, pull yourself together," Blaise demanded. "I need help here!"

"Sorry," Draco choked out.

"You can have your daughter back," Blaise offered, holding Angel at arms length.

"I'll get Drake, if you like," Draco responded, not moving to take his daughter.

"No, you can have this one," Blaise insisted, thrusting Angel into her father's arms before he could refuse. "I prefer the easy one."

"Daddy, you dropped me!" Angel blurted indignantly. "My hair is all wet!"

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I didn't mean to drop you," Draco crooned. "Why don't we have a nice swim before it's time to go in for dinner?"

"I don't—"

"Why don't you show Uncle Blaise how well you float?" Draco encouraged at the same time as sending Blaise a telling look, knowingly full well his daughter was about to demand that she be returned to the shore.

"You can float?" Blaise expressed with mock surprise. "I don't believe it!"

As Angel laid herself backwards into the water, Draco sent his friend a grateful look. They had successfully avoided a huge scene with Angel, and it was mostly thanks to Blaise. For the next few hours the four of them swam in the crystal clear water. Often the men set challenges for the children, which were always accepted enthusiastically, even if the goal was a little out of reach of their current ability. It was only when the sun began to dip low in the sky that they decided to head back to the house.

Millie and one of the Zabini house elves met them at the doors. While Millie ushered the twins upstairs for baths, the other servant informed the men that dinner would be served on the terrace in half an hour, as per Katarina's instructions. With so little time to spare, the men parted at the top of the staircase with promises to meet on the terrace in no less than twenty-five minutes.

* * *

"Ladies," Draco intoned warmly as he stepped onto the terrace. He'd had a quick shower and had donned some causal clothes for the evening, and was quite pleased that he'd managed to arrive at dinner before Blaise. "I trust you had a pleasant afternoon."

"Yes, we did," Ginny answered.

Something in her tone put Draco on his guard immediately. It didn't matter that she said they'd had a good afternoon, because something had obviously displeased her. The question now was did he care to explore it in front of company or should he wait until they had some privacy.

"I take it you had fun swimming this afternoon?" Ginny asked evenly.

A ball of trepidation formed in his stomach; something told him that he may have, inadvertently, done something foolish. "Yes, love, we all had a good time."

Ginny nodded calmly. "Tell me, Draco, is you skin a bit pink tonight?"

"As a matter of fact, I did get a bit of sun," Draco admitted, wondering just how she knew.

"So did the twins."

It suddenly dawned on him what she was upset about. He'd cursed himself in the shower when his skin had stung, but it hadn't occurred to him at the time that others might be suffering as well. "I forgot sun protection charms."

"You did, and now they're sun burnt."

"I'm sorry," Draco replied softly, his guilt increasing when he glanced at the red faces of his children. "I just didn't think."

"You've got to think of these things," Ginny insisted.

"Is there something Millie can do for them?" Draco inquired hopefully.

"She's going to try after dinner," Ginny responded tiredly.

"I really am sorry, love," Draco repeated. "It won't ever happen again."

A muffled snort from behind him attracted Draco's attention right away. Upon turning around, he found an overly amused Blaise Zabini standing behind him with his hand firmly clamped over his mouth. Draco sneered at his friend. He despised being the source of anyone's amusement.

"You should hear yourself, Malfoy, it's truly pathetic," Blaise teased. "_I really am sorry_," he mimicked.

"Blaise, don't be horrid," Katarina chided. "You're at fault too, so I'd be very careful if I were you."

"Me? What did I do?" Blaise asked.

"The children got sun burnt," Katarina informed him. "You are just as much at fault as Draco for not applying sun protection charms to them."

Blaise looked at his wife with confusion. "I don't need those charms."

"The children do and as an adult you are responsible for making sure—"

"All right." Blaise held his hands up in surrender. "We're both bad boys. Now, can we get over it and enjoy the evening?"

The women exchanged glances, and then turned back to their men with smiles. Though their expressions could hardly have been described as warm or inviting, it was better than the frowns they'd worn earlier, and it gave the men something to work with.

"Shall we?" Blaise indicated to the two vacant chairs around the table.

"Thank you," Draco muttered.

"Wine?" Blaise offered.

Draco nodded his agreement.

"You're not going to get rolling drunk tonight, Blaise," Katarina whispered.

"Of course not, we're just having a drink with dinner," Blaise assured her, not bothering to keep his voice low. "Relax, love. We're with good friends and we're going to have a great weekend."

Katarina smiled tightly at her husband.

"Blaise is right," Draco interrupted. "All we want to do this weekend is relax with good company, so you can forget about being the perfect hostess and just enjoy yourself."

"All right," Katarina agreed slowly. "But if there's anything you need or—"

"We'll let you know," Draco cut her off with a dazzling smile. "For now, I propose a toast." He paused while everyone raised their glasses. "To good friends."

"To good friends," the other three echoed.

Even Drake and Angel touched their glasses together and muttered something between themselves, just like the adults.

"Now for dinner," Katarina announced as she clapped her hands together.

The meal was a sumptuous seafood feast, served with bowls of leafy green salads and as many condiments as they could possibly use. Compliments flew around the table, but Katarina continually reminded everyone that she had nothing to do with the preparation of the food.

Millie joined the diners during the meal and was kept busy tempting the twins to try things they'd not eaten before. For the most part the servant was successful, but that was only due to her own stubbornness. After all, if it hadn't been for her, Draco would still think that chocolate was the only food group.

Dessert was Baklava served with fresh fruit and whipped cream. While the men still enjoyed their wine, the women moved from the sparkling pumpkin juice they'd been drinking to steaming cups of tea. The moment everyone had finished eating two servants appeared to clear the table. Blaise waved one of them off when it dared to touch the chilling wine bottle beside him.

"Millie will take the children upstairs for treatment now?" the aging servant asked of her mistress.

"Yes, of course, just let me know if you need any help," Ginny answered, getting the distinct feeling that Millie would much rather if she stayed away for the time being.

"As Mistress wishes." Millie bowed low before ushering the protesting twins inside.

"Do you think she'll be able to ease their discomfort?" Katarina inquired.

"Undoubtedly," Draco answered confidently. "If there's something Millie can't do it hasn't been invented yet."

Ginny smiled at her husband. She'd never heard him speak so passionately about any servant, least of all the one who spent the most time with them. Often it seemed as though he simply took her granted, but this outburst gave Ginny cause to reconsider her view of her husband and his relationship with the creatures that served them.

"I'd hate for something like that to ruin their weekend," Katarina continued sadly.

"It won't," Ginny promised. "Even if Millie can't help them, they'll just keep going as if nothing is wrong. Kids always ignore what's bothering them when there are fun or different things to be doing."

"Then we'll hear all about it when we get home," Draco added ruefully.

"Drake won't bother, but you know your daughter will give you grief." Ginny smiled knowingly.

Draco pulled a face and sighed heavily. His daughter knew exactly how inflict guilt upon any unsuspecting person and extract a hefty payment for her woes, imaginary or not. While he was no longer considered susceptible to her wiles, or he shouldn't be at this stage, it was rather difficult to ignore her efforts.

"We visited your brothers' store last week," Katarina said, changing the topic smoothly.

"Stay away from that place," Draco warned seriously. He could only think of one set of Weasley brothers who owned a store that the Zabinis might visit.

"Why? They have the most beautiful range of lingerie I've seen for a long time," Katarina countered.

"The_lingerie_? Stay away from it!" Draco leaned forward and pinned Blaise with a meaningful look. "Do not, _under any circumstances_, let Katarina put that stuff _anywhere_ near her body. _Nothing_ in that store is what it seems."

"You sound like you're talking from experience," Blaise commented casually.

"I am," Draco admitted flatly. "It was— horrifying."

"Tell us what happened," Blaise encouraged.

"You don't need the sordid details. Just don't buy anything from them," Draco insisted.

"I'm afraid you'll have to do better than that, because I think Katarina would look smashing in some of their lingerie," Blaise pressed.

Draco groaned. He chanced a glance at his wife, whose cheeks were flaming at the memory, and wondered if it was worth rehashing the incident.

"Come on, tell us what happened," Katarina pleaded.

"All right, but only so you won't buy anything from them," Draco conceded. "Unless, of course, you want to viciously torture someone."

Blaise grinned broadly. "I like the sound of that."

Draco quickly gave Blaise and Katarina a brief synopsis of what happened the night of Ginny's birthday lunch. Their joint shock, disbelief and sympathy came as no surprise when they learned the truth.

"I can't believe your own brothers did that to you," Katarina expressed as she reached to hug Ginny. "It's just inconceivable."

"They think they're funny," Ginny supplied, accepting the other woman's compassion graciously.

"You didn't let them get away with it, did you?" Blaise questioned Draco.

"Of course not," Draco answered indignantly. "I'm just a little more subtle than they are."

"What did you do?" Blaise asked curiously.

"Ginny, of course, went to their store the following morning and ranted at them, but that really didn't have any affect, because they'd heard it all before from just about every family member from what I can gather," Draco started. "So I had to think of a way to get them back without being overly obvious and at the same time ensure they were caused the maximum amount of pain."

"And?"

"Ginny's brother, Percy, had his birthday lunch on Sunday. It was the first time I've come face to face with Fred and George since that night, so I felt it imperative that I let them know how disappointed I was with their assumption that we'd find a gift like that funny. Out of respect for the occasion, I called them aside, so the other men wouldn't overhear and wouldn't get upset."

"What happened?" Blaise's knowing smirk told everyone present that he knew Draco's payback was coming.

"There we were against the house, supposedly having a private conversation, and all of a sudden Molly Weasley appears before us, and she's absolutely livid. The rest of the women were backing her up and, I've got to tell you, some of the things they were suggesting that should happen to Fred and George were truly frightening — these women are sadistic."

"Did you tell them, Ginny?" Katarina asked, her suspense all too obvious.

"No, I didn't say a word." Ginny smiled at her husband. "What Draco forgot to mention is when he called my twin brothers over for a word he made sure they were standing just to the side of the open kitchen window, where Mum was standing preparing lunch. When she erupted, the rest of the women just followed."

Draco sighed with satisfaction. "They were in a world of pain, and I didn't even have to break a sweat or raise my wand."

"There was quite enough of that going on," Ginny pointed out.

"Your family doesn't hex their own, do they?" Blaise asked in morbid horror.

"No, but wands hurt like the devil when they catch the edge of your ear." Ginny winked across the table at the mortified wizard.

"What happened next?" Katarina prodded with excitement.

"All sorts of threats were thrown about by various family members, especially by my other brothers when they finally figured out what was going on, but Mum held their attention for a fair while."

"My personal favorite was when Molly threatened to tie their dicks in knots, so they couldn't take a leak, if they dared to pull another prank like that on one of the girls." Draco chuckled loudly as he relived the memory. "I thought I was going to fall off my chair by the time she was done with them."

"Are they married?" Katarina enquired.

"Yeah, but if they keep going the way they are their wives are going to kill them for sure," Ginny replied. "They were appalled at what they did. More than I've ever seen them before. I think the boys have spent the week at the shop to avoid going home to the couch."

"The cowards," Blaise uttered with a shake of his head.

"You've got to look at it from their perspective too," Draco pointed out. "Would you go home after that?"

Blaise glanced at his beautiful wife, and then back at his mate, before quietly admitting, "Probably not."

"Neither would I," Draco agreed heartily as he raised his wine glass.

Blaise followed suit, taking a healthy mouthful of the golden liquid. It was all he could do to stop himself from making any further confessions that might see his male psyche too easily unraveled by his wife.

Draco cleared his throat meaningfully, and then looked at Blaise with a smirk. "Have you started on the nursery?" he asked, steering the conversation away from dangerous territory and into an area the women could talk about for days without drawing breath.

"We've been looking at some furniture," Blaise answered. "What about you?"

"Yeah, we've got the furniture. Ginny's in charge of redecorating the nursery, aren't you, love?" Draco smiled at his wife.

"Yes, I'm going to get started on that when the twins are in classes," Ginny replied.

"What colors are you going to do?" Katarina inquired.

"I was thinking about keeping the walls neutral and using toys to brighten the room up," Ginny admitted.

"Where did you get the furniture?" Katarina asked curiously.

"It's been in my family for generations," Draco responded proudly.

"I'll show you the nursery next time you come over," Ginny promised. "The furniture is really beautiful, though it's a little hard to imagine that Lucius and Draco once slept in the cradle."

Katarina laughed heartily. "I can't imagine either of them being so small and helpless."

Ginny joined in the hilarity. "I don't think Lucius ever was."

"Are you going to find out what you're having?" Draco asked once the women had settled down again, determined to keep their minds occupied with a safe topic.

"No, we want it to be a surprise," Katarina answered determinedly.

Blaise made an odd sound in the back of his throat and averted his gaze from his wife.

"You disagree, Blaise?" Draco observed astutely.

"I thought it made perfect sense to discover the sex of our baby, so we could plan more thoroughly, instead of getting everything unisex," Blaise answered strongly, though his eyes were fixed on his friend's to avoid contact with his wife.

"Blaise doesn't understand that the surprise and anticipation of not knowing is what gets you through the tough times," Katarina expressed tightly.

"Sorry, Blaise, I'm with Katarina on this one," Ginny interjected kindly. "Believe me, there are times when you wonder when it's all going to end, but when you remember what you're doing it for, or rather who, then it makes it seem not so bad after all."

"Don't you think it would be better to be able to identify your baby from the beginning? Things like giving it a name? Wouldn't personalizing the experience be better?" Blaise gushed emotionally.

"It can work both ways," Ginny admitted. "Personally, I liked having the surprise at the end. The joy of finally finding out made everything I went through during the pregnancy and the birth seem insignificant."

"I'd give up now while you still have your dignity," Draco mumbled across the table.

Blaise ignored his old friend's advice. "I just wanted to have a name for my child. I think it's better than calling it _'It_."

"So find a name for it," Ginny said matter-of-factly. "Something that's amusing, but endearing at the same time."

"What on earth? You can't name a baby without knowing whether it's a boy or a girl," Blaise claimed.

"I don't mean a proper name," Ginny said with an amused grin. "I mean something funny."

"Like?" Blaise prompted.

Ginny sighed and thought for a moment. "When Fleur was pregnant with Beau she called him Peanut."

"Peanut?" Blaise looked horrified.

"It's better than Blob or Firecracker," Ginny reasoned.

"Don't tell me," Draco interrupted. "Your twin brothers?"

Ginny nodded. "I can't remember which one used which for what child, but those names were around for a while."

"Peanut," Blaise muttered thoughtfully. "It's pitiful that that name actually sounds good right now."

"It's better than 'It'," Draco reminded him.

Katarina looked expectantly at her husband, waiting for him to make eye contact with her. "Do we have a name?" she whispered.

Blaise tried not to cringe as he slowly turned to look at his wife. "Peanut?"

"Peanut it is then!" Katarina smiled brightly and reached for her husband's hand.

"What about you two? Do you have a name for the baby?" Blaise inquired.

"No, we don't," Draco answered. The moment Blaise's lips began to twitch he regretted introducing the subject; he should have stuck to Quidditch. "It's not like we need one," he continued defensively.

"I think you need one," Blaise argued. "After all, what is Peanut going to call his friend?"

"Or _her_ friend," Katarina added with purpose. "The real reason Blaise wanted to know the sex of the baby was because he's sure it's a boy, and he just wants to know if he's right."

Ginny cleared her throat to attract everyone's attention. "Actually, we do have a name for the baby."

Draco frowned at his wife. "We do?"

"Yes, I feel funny not calling it anything, so I named it," Ginny explained.

"Do I want to know what you named it?" Draco asked cautiously.

"You sound like you don't," Ginny observed.

"Tell us," Blaise encouraged with a wide grin.

"Poppet," Ginny said simply.

"Poppet?" Draco sat forward in his chair suddenly, clearly looking appalled. "This is a Malfoy. You can't give a Malfoy a name like Poppet!"

"Well, I did," Ginny answered calmly. "Besides, it's my choice, because I'm carrying Poppet, and I'm the one who's got to give birth."

Draco opened and closed his mouth several times, but didn't utter a sound.

"She's got a valid point," Blaise muttered.

Draco sighed heavily and shook his head. "Just do one thing for me."

"What's that?" Ginny asked, her lips twitching into a grin.

"Don't tell Father you've named the baby Poppet. We'd never hear the end of it if he found out."

Ginny smiled. "I won't tell him, I promise."

"Thank you."

"But I can't promise that your mother won't tell him," Ginny continued.

"We're done for," Draco groaned. "I'm going to get my ear bashed for this for sure."

"Oh, don't be silly," Ginny tutted. "If he gives you any grief, just tell him it was my doing, and if he wants an opinion, he can carry a baby for nine months, and then give birth."

Draco's eyes opened exceedingly wide at his wife's words. There was no way his father would accept Poppet, and it was just as unlikely that he would keep his opinion to himself, regardless of what argument Draco put forth.

"So, how about those Cannons," Blaise said suddenly. "They might actually win a game this season."

Everyone seemed to stop all of a sudden and look at the dark-haired wizard quizzically. The silence held for a minute or so, and then Draco began to laugh. Before long all four adults were lost to hilarity, and the tension that had been building gently dissolved completely.

For the rest of the evening they chatted amicably between themselves. Millie escorted the children downstairs to bid everyone goodnight, before marching them straight back up to tuck them in. She had been successful in taking the sting out of their tender skin, a fact that assuaged Draco's lingering guilt. By the time the two couples called it a night both women were incredibly tired and the men were equally tipsy.

* * *

Friday morning dawned with perfect blue skies, dotted with fluffy white clouds. Everyone had gathered on the terrace for breakfast, before heading to the beach for an early swim. After a picnic lunch on the rolling green lawn of the property they'd gone for a long walk to take in some of the sights and views that surrounded the Zabini mansion

Draco fought to maintain a normal demeanor all day. The last thing he wanted was for anyone to notice he wasn't his usual self, because that would lead to uncomfortable questions that he really didn't want to answer. He felt the tension from his worry about what was going on at home start to build for real the moment his eyes opened that morning. A Floo call home would have either banished his unease or confirmed his worst fears, but he wasn't alone long enough to consider sneaking off and making the call.

He knew his success at hiding his worry was failing at times, because he'd caught Ginny looking at him oddly a few times throughout the day. She never said anything, but he could see she was curious. Blaise, on the other hand, had actually asked him if everything was all right at one stage. Draco had brushed off his concern, but he was sure he'd failed to convince his friend that all was well. Not that it mattered, because Blaise didn't push the issue and for that Draco was grateful.

It was really only when he was doing something with the children that he was able to push aside the worry and behave as if there was nothing wrong. By mid-afternoon he was determinedly keeping them busy to stop his own mind from wandering back to the shores of England. There were many times during the course of the day that he'd wished he'd confided in Blaise, so that he would at least have a sounding board and perhaps a little personal support.

By dinnertime Draco was so tied up in knots that he thought he'd be unable to keep anything down if he bothered to eat. He decided that he would excuse himself during the meal and, under the guise of using visiting the bathroom, he'd contact his father. A certain amount of relief settled over him when he realized he had a workable plan, and he would get the information required to save his sanity in just a short time.

They had just gathered on the terrace for some pre-dinner drinks when a house elf appeared at Draco's side.

"Mr. Malfoy has a Floo call in Master's study," the elf squeaked.

Draco could feel the blood draining from his face and he was powerless to stop it. If they were contacting him it could only mean one thing: they'd found something really bad.

"Mate, are you all right?" Blaise asked with concern.

He could feel his friend's hand on his back and hear his voice, but the only response he could make was a short, unconvincing nod.

"Draco?" Blaise tried again, trying to get his full attention.

"I should take this," Draco mumbled as he shuffled away.

He didn't really want to speak to whoever it was in the grate of Blaise's study, but it seemed the better choice at the moment. To stay on the terrace with everyone focused solely on him wasn't an option. The thought that he might go mad at any given moment was very real and he could feel his grasp on his control slipping through his fingers.

As he entered the house, he could hear a murmured conversation start behind him. There would be no hiding that there had been something bothering him today, so he would have to come up with a plausible story to cover himself before he rejoined them. Of course, that was if the Ministry wasn't on the way to arrest him and, in that case, the truth was going to be exceedingly difficult to hide.

Draco paused for a few moments outside Blaise's study. He rested his head against the cool wall and tried to calm himself. It was of the utmost importance that he not show any weakness to whoever was waiting for him on the other side of the door. When he thought he had brought himself under as much control as possible, Draco schooled his features expertly and entered the darkened room.

The only light source within the walls was the emerald flames coming from the fireplace. Draco didn't so much as glance at whose head was floating in there as he approached, for fear he might lose his control and flee. His heart felt like it was going to jump right out of his chest and he could feel his body growing damp with sweat, but his expression remained stoical.

"Bloody hell, Malfoy, I was beginning to think you weren't going to show."

Draco's eyes snapped to the hearth, as the familiar voice demanded his attention. "Weasley."

"You don't sound very pleased to be hearing from me," Ron observed with a smile playing around his lips.

"Just tell me," Draco snapped.

"Let's see, we arrived at Malfoy Manor at—"

"I don't want a full rundown," Draco snarled. "Did you find _anything_?"

"A bit touchy, aren't we? Anyone would think you've been worried." Ron's blue eyes twinkled with mischief.

Draco took a deep breath and tried to force the urge to reach through the Floo network and throttle his brother-in-law from his mind. After all, the murder of an Auror just wouldn't look good on his record, no matter how much said Auror deserved to die. "Just tell me," he said calmly.

"You're clean," Ron admitted simply.

A huge wave of relief washed over Draco. He could feel the tension draining out of his body, and for the first time that day, he smiled genuinely.

"Except—"

The hairs of Draco's neck rose immediately and fear flooded back into his body faster than it left. "What?"

"Well, I'd really appreciate it if you'd buy my sister some decent underwear." Ron grimaced as if in pain. "It was really disturbing going through those drawers."

If he hadn't been leaning on a chair he would have fallen over as every fiber in his body relaxed. There were no words that could have possibly expressed how relieved he felt at the moment.

"Are you all right?" Ron asked, sounding a little confused.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm perfect," Draco mumbled.

"You were worried, weren't you?"

"I think that's only natural," Draco growled.

Ron appeared to shrug. "I suppose. Anyway, I just thought I'd let you know there was nothing to worry about."

"Thanks," Draco intoned sincerely.

"No problem. Enjoy your weekend."

"We will," Draco answered as a smile started to pull at his lips again.

With one last nod of his disembodied head, Ron disappeared from the flames and the hearth went dark.

If he'd been more prone to express his emotions openly, Draco would have been dancing a jig and hooting at the top of his lungs right about now, but instead he stood straight and grinned foolishly as he glanced around the room. The rest of the weekend was going to be brilliant; he could feel it. Not to mention, he'd managed all of this without his wife discovering his underhanded play to get her away from the manor or the reason why.

On the way back to the terrace he whistled a merry little tune under his breath. He couldn't help but express his happiness and relief in some form, even if it was a bit out of character. As he stepped onto the terrace everyone's eyes turned to him.

"Everything all right, mate?" Blaise asked curiously.

"Yeah, everything is perfect," Draco assured him. "It was just—"

"So Ron and Harry didn't find anything then?" Ginny butted in before her husband could bury himself in another lie.

Draco's world seemed to slow down to the point where it almost stopped. He could feel himself turning to face his wife and, though he didn't really want to, he was powerless to stop himself. After all his effort to protect her, how had she known? Words were coming and going in his mind, but nothing was staying long enough to make the journey to his tongue. His eyes held the question he was, apparently, unable to voice at this point.

"Percy told me," Ginny informed him gently. "I already knew they were raiding known properties, and he thought I ought to know that they were targeting Malfoy Manor as well."

Although the damage had been done, seemingly earlier than Draco ever would have guessed, the desire to kill his least favorite brother-in-law was very strong. "I didn't want—"

"I figured that out." Ginny shrugged her shoulders and smiled softly at him. "That's why I didn't let on that I knew."

"It's not pleasant," Draco uttered. "That's why I didn't want you—"

"Draco, it's all right," Ginny said as she walked towards him. "I'm not angry. Actually, it's rather comforting to know you'd go to such measures to protect me from something like that."

He could hardly believe his ears. "You're not?"

"No, of course not. But you do need to remember that I'm not your mother, and I don't need protecting from _all_ the unpleasantness in the world," Ginny reminded him.

Draco sighed as he rested his forehead on hers. "I'm sorry I wasn't honest with you. I just didn't want you to have to go through that."

"It's over now and they didn't find anything," Ginny said. "Let's just leave it at that, shall we?"

"Have I told you how much I love you today?"

"No, I think you missed that today," Ginny answered impishly.

"I love you more than anything," Draco murmured just before he claimed his wife's lips in an impassioned kiss. He could hear his son's disgusted protests in the background, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

"Look, if you two want some privacy we could take the kids and go out for dinner," Blaise offered amusedly.

"Hush, Blaise," Katarina chastised. "Leave them be."

"Thanks, mate," Draco said when he surfaced for air. "But it won't be necessary. I'm sure we can control ourselves until later this evening."

Blaise pinned his old friend with a serious look. "You know, now that we're both older and married, that falls into the category of too much information."

Draco smirked. "Sorry," he uttered insincerely.

Both men burst into laughter at that point. Draco could tell Blaise was remembering some of the more detailed conversations they'd had over the years about their conquests. The two really never had any secrets and even used to trade helpful tips at one time.

"Anyway, good to hear everything is as it should be at home," Blaise said as he sobered.

"You knew as well?" Draco questioned.

"Why do you think I jumped at the chance to come with you?" Blaise asked. "If they're searching all the old properties, then mine will come up eventually."

Ginny frowned at the other wizard. "Why would they search any of your properties? I didn't think you had an alliance with—"

"I didn't, but some of my mother's ex-husbands had questionable backgrounds, so we usually get included in the periodic raids," Blaise explained. "It doesn't bother me; I just don't like to be there when they're ripping through everything."

"No, that wouldn't be pleasant," Ginny conceded.

"Can we have dinner now?" Drake asked impatiently. "I'm starving!"

"We can't have that!" Katarina exclaimed. "Come on, everyone, we'll sit down and get this meal underway."

"Wine?" Blaise offered Draco.

"I feel like celebrating tonight," Draco answered with a wicked smirk.

Blaise quirked his eyebrows nefariously and smirked back. "We haven't done that since we were teenagers."

"Are you up for it?"

"Of course I am," Blaise responded defensively.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Draco prompted.

Within minutes, Blaise had summoned a servant, ordered a bottle of Firewhisky and had poured two tumblers to the brim. The women watched their partners in silence, exchanging sympathetic looks with each other. They both knew, without doubt, that their men were going to end up rather drunk by the end of the evening.

Whether it was a blessing in disguise or not, Ginny didn't much care, but the twins had started yawning quite widely during their meal and were escorted off to bed not long after they finished. They'd been kept active all day, so it really wasn't a surprise that the two five-year-olds had come to the end of their energy levels around dinnertime.

From the moment the twins were declared sound asleep the conversation took a decidedly adult route, compliments of the inebriated wizards. In the course of a very short time, Ginny and Katarina learned all sorts of interesting things about their respective husbands and their habits as students, as well as some of what they got to between leaving school and finding their wives. The two men were seemingly lost down memory lane and no subject was taboo. Some of what they were recalling was definitely not supposed to be for conversation in mixed company, let alone the company of their wives, but they'd drunk far too much to register that fact.

"Do you remember--" Blaise leaned over the table, trying not to snigger as he slurred and pointed directly at Draco. "—when I came to Paris to visit you?"

"How could I forget?" Draco made a show of sitting up straight and directed his glassy gaze at the women. "The first day Blaise arrived in Paris I had to work, so he went off to do a little sight-seeing. About mid-afternoon he bounces into my office saying that I had to leave right now, because he'd met two Swedish tourists and had promised to show them around Paris."

"It was the polite thing to do," Blaise interjected earnestly.

"Believe me, it had nothing to do with his manners." Draco smirked. "As I discovered when I met the two lovely ladies."

Ginny rolled her eyes comically at Katarina and the other woman responded by pulling a funny face.

"So these two ladies were perfection personified: blonde hair, big tits, long legs, hourglass figures — perfection! We did the gentlemanly thing and showed them the sights, then we took them to dinner and as they were allegedly staying in some seedy hotel, we offered them a place to stay." Draco's lecherous grin let them know that his thoughts had been anything but charitable at the time.

"Couldn't let them stay in the place they were planning to," Blaise slurred. "They might have caught something."

"Sounds like you two were planning to give them something anyway," Katarina muttered not quite under her breath.

"This is where it gets really funny," Draco claimed.

"Oh, this is a funny story?" Ginny questioned cynically. "I thought you were just telling us about another one of your duel conquests."

"No, it's hilarious!" Draco insisted. "We spent all that time with them and got them back to my place. I won't lie and say we were just thinking of their best interests, we were definitely—"

"Thinking with your dicks," Ginny supplied with a smile.

Draco blinked a couple of times at his wife. "Err—yeah, something like that. Anyway, we were trying to work out the sleeping arrangements and who would be sharing with whom, when the girls insisted that they share. We didn't want to see rude or pushy, so we went about trying to convince them otherwise. Who would resist a couple of handsome, charming Englishmen?"

The women rolled their eyes at one another, neither willing to verbalize their thoughts.

"I know the answer to this," Blaise claimed loudly, leaning forward and slamming his hand on the table. "Two lesbians!"

Ginny couldn't quite believe what she'd just heard. She was sure Blaise must have butchered a word and her ears had simply adapted it to sound like something else.

"Are you telling us that you two spent all that time and effort, and you didn't get your reward shags?" Katarina asked in amused shock.

"That's exactly what happened," Draco confirmed. "They ended up taking my bed and we ended up in the guest room."

The moment Ginny's eyes flicked over to Katarina they both burst into gales of laughter. Draco was right. His tale of Blaise's visit to Paris was hilarious. It took the women quite some time to bring themselves under control, because every time they so much as glanced at one another they burst into renewed laughter.

Not long after Draco's Paris tale, Ginny and Katarina decided to retire for the night, leaving the men to continue drinking and reminiscing about the 'good old days'. They'd heard quite enough tawdry tales about their husbands to last them a lifetime. There were just some things a wife shouldn't know about her husband, but then a little information was handy for those times when blackmail becomes necessary, so what they had learned would be filed away for later use.

* * *

Draco stepped out onto the terrace into the glaring sun and groaned painfully. He'd spent the last hour or so with his head in the toilet, losing everything he'd ever ingested, or so he thought at the time. It was obviously late, but he had no idea what the actual time was.

"Coffee?" a pained voice ground out.

"No, can't stomach it," Draco mumbled, slumping into a chair in the shade. "Water would be good."

Blaise nodded, and then looked as though he instantly regretted the move. His face, which was already pale, turned a sickly gray color and he swallowed hard.

Draco watched on in morbid fascination, willing his friend not to lose his stomach right at that moment, because he knew his wasn't strong enough to resist following suit.

A house elf popped onto the terrace and looked Draco up and down before offering, "Mister would like coffee?"

"Water," Draco rasped out.

The servant left the terrace with a pop that reverberated through Draco's head. He closed his eyes, cursing to himself, and tried to settle the throbbing that was threatening to overtake his whole head. If he didn't get this under control very soon he was going to have to make a mad dash for a bathroom. Just when he thought he was getting it to abate, the servant arrived back and seemingly slammed a pitcher of water on the table along with a tall glass. Unable to speak, for fear of opening his mouth and something other than angry words coming out, Draco breathed deeply through his nose and concentrated on sending the nausea away.

When he opened his eyes, Draco noted that while the servant had delivered the water and a glass, it had failed to fill the glass. It took conscious effort to get his hand to reach out and take hold of the pitcher. As he raised it ready to pour himself some water he noted that his hand was shaking rather violently.

"I spilled half of my first coffee all over me," Blaise muttered.

"Can't wait," Draco moaned, as he tried to pour water into the glass.

By the time he'd filled his glass almost to the top there was a large puddle on the table. Draco didn't much care at this point; he just needed to get some water into him. As he picked the glass up, water sloshed from the brim, falling over the table and down his front, but it wasn't like he could help it at the moment — his hands simply wouldn't stop shaking.

"Maybe we ought to find you a straw," Blaise offered without conviction.

Draco ignored him and sipped the water gratefully. He could only hope that it would stay down, because he didn't think he could handle vomiting again. After sipping from the glass for several minutes, Draco placed it on the table as gently as he could. "Don't you have some hangover potion or something?"

"No, forgot to bring some," Blaise moaned.

"Fuck," Draco hissed.

"My thoughts exactly."

"Where are the girls?"

"Beach with the kids," Blaise mumbled. "You can just see them in the water if you squint."

Draco looked towards the water, but the glare from the sun caused him physical pain. "I'll take your word for it."

Blaise grunted in acknowledgement.

The men sat in relative silence for sometime, each lost in their own suffering. Draco continued to sip his water, and Blaise managed to down a few cups of strong coffee. It was with painful slowness that each started to feel a little better, not entirely, but at least a little more human than they were when they first rolled out of bed.

They'd been there about an hour when the women and children started to walk across the lawn. Draco's eyes, though his sight was less than perfect at the moment, were fixed on his wife. Ginny was wearing the black bikini she'd bought on their honeymoon, along with the sheer wrapped that matched the swimsuit. He could see the bulge of their child clearly and it again sent him into a wondrous state. The impending birth of his child seemed so surreal most of the time, but when he saw her like this the facts crashed around him, sending his thoughts in all directions.

"We're going to be fathers all too soon," Blaise commented.

"Yeah," Draco agreed absently, his eyes not leaving Ginny.

"I don't suppose it'll change much for you."

"I wasn't there when the twins were babies, so I expect it will," Draco countered.

"Good point," Blaise conceded. "Are you—"

Draco waited for his friend to finish the question, but it hung in the air for several seconds before he glanced at the other man. "What?"

"You know… Scared?" Blaise finished in a small voice.

His eyes wandered back to the women and he exhaled slowly. _Scared_ didn't really begin to cover how he felt most of the time about becoming a father again, and from the beginning this time. Draco licked his lips and turned back to his long-time friend. "Terrified."

"Me too," Blaise admitted, a nervous smile tugging at his lips.

"I don't know anything about babies," Draco continued. "Hell, I don't know anything about children."

"You do all right with Drake and Angel."

"Most of the time that's just luck. Believe me, I've made some monumental mistakes with them."

"But you're managing," Blaise pointed out.

"Only just." Draco glanced at his advancing family, thankful that the grassed area was wide and they were walking slowly. "Did you know I had to have help to sort Drake out at one point?"

"No, you didn't tell me."

"Well, all of Ginny's brothers and her father came around, as well as his godfather. We got him sorted out, but that was—well, it was disconcerting. He's five-years-old, and I couldn't figure out what to do with him."

"Yeah, but he's smarter than you," Blaise teased.

"Very funny," Draco answered dryly. "Wait until you're pulling your hair out with yours."

Blaise smirked. "I can always call on the very experienced _Uncle_ Draco for advice."

"I'll be taking no responsibility for any advice I hand out," Draco replied.

"Daddy!" Angel squealed as she ran the last ten meters or so.

"Someone kill me now," Draco mumbled under his breath.

"Can we gag her?" Blaise asked seriously as his hand went to his head.

"No, you cannot gag Angel or anyone else," Katarina answered sternly. "It's your fault you're feeling horrid, so you'll not be getting any sympathy. And you can stop looking at me like that Draco Malfoy."

Draco averted his gaze quickly. He didn't have the energy to defend himself if she decided to attack or perhaps try to read his thoughts, which were centered around how heartless she sounded — a sure path to a torturous death.

"Don't you feel well, Daddy?" Drake asked, his little voice full of concern.

"No, mate," Draco answered softly.

Drake reached over and stroked his father's arm. "What's wrong?"

Draco had been hoping Drake wouldn't ask, because it was going to be impossible to lie about why he was feeling like something stuck to the bottom of a mountain troll's foot with the women standing within hearing distance. "I just don't—"

"He's hung over," Ginny butted in with a sadistic grin. "This is how you wake up the next afternoon after a big night with Firewhisky."

The little wizard's eyes popped wide open, and then he solemnly declared, "I'm never drinking that stuff."

"Famous last words," Blaise mumbled.

"Yes, I seem to recall you saying something like that last time you woke up like this," Katarina mused aloud, while smirking at her husband.

Surprise colored Drake's face as he turned to face the black-haired wizard. "Why did you drink it again, Uncle Blaise?"

"I—err—you see—umm—"

"Drake, there is no explaining how silly grown wizards are sometimes," Katarina explained.

"I'm not going to be silly when I grow up," Drake stated with a firm nod of his head.

"You keep to that idea and you won't ever have to wake up feeling like your dad or Uncle Blaise," Katarina encouraged.

Draco put his head in his hands and wondered just how old Drake would be when he discovered the alluring beauty of Firewhisky. He'd been around fifteen when he and Blaise had stolen a bottle from Lucius' study, and had gone out to the lake to drink it. They thought they were so grown up and so very clever. Of course, the effect it would have on their inexperienced bodies hadn't come under consideration when they started, and before long they were so drunk they couldn't stand straight. Not long after Lucius had discovered their private party the vomiting started. Much of that day remains a hazy blur, but one thing Draco remembered vividly was how much the alcohol burned on the way back up. He didn't think he'd ever stop vomiting and thoughts of death lingered in his brain. His father had been a great help; he stood back and smirked at them, chortling occasionally when they seemed to be particularly hurting.

"Never," Drake said reverently.

Katarina looked at Blaise with a fiendish expression on her face. "I thought we might eat out tonight. There's a restaurant I'd love to share with Draco and Ginny."

"Do we have--" Blaise paused as his eyes bulged. He clamped his mouth shut and breathed deeply for a few seconds. "—to talk about food right now?"

"It's called planning, dear," Katarina answered sweetly.

"More like cruel torture," Blaise muttered under his breath.

Ginny shrugged casually, but a smile was playing around her lips. "It works for me. Would you like to know what we had for breakfast? Oh, wait! I'll tell you what we had for lunch!"

"Don't," Draco pleaded from between clenched teeth.

"Well, if you're positive," Ginny said. "But just so you know, you missed a real treat at lunch. The chicken salad was perfect. Katarina, you've got to get that recipe for me. Did I taste bacon in it?"

"Yes, and avocado," Katarina responded with a cheeky grin. "Speaking of food, weren't we going to have afternoon tea?"

"I'm always starving after swimming," Ginny replied.

"Are we going to be good?" Katarina posed.

"Nah, let's be wicked." Ginny cackled.

"Evil," Blaise muttered. "Pure evil."

"Which one?" Draco asked.

"Both."

While the men were discussing the iniquity of their wives, Katarina summoned a servant and ordered afternoon tea to be served. Soon enough there was a selection of creamy pastries on the table, along with large pitchers of pumpkin juice and a huge teapot. The twins didn't take long to scramble up to the table and inform Katarina what they would like on their plates.

Once the children were served and resituated at the other end of the table, Katarina turned her wicked grin on the men. "Afternoon tea, boys? There's plenty to go around."

Blaise shook his head and Draco waved his hand to indicate that he declined.

"Are you sure?" Katarina double-checked, waving a plate with a pastry on it in front of them.

"The two of you could probably do with something in your stomachs," Ginny observed seriously.

At that point Draco got to his feet awkwardly. "Walk—fresh air—away—"

"Me too," Blaise said as he stood up quickly.

The women watched their men wander away in a rather ungainly manner, considering both of them usually moved with authority.

Katarina gnawed at her lip as she sat down. Worry had etched itself into her features. "Do you think we went too far?"

"No, they'll be all right," Ginny assured her. "They need to keep purging until the alcohol is out of their system, and by the looks of them it's not even close to being gone."

Throughout the rest of the afternoon both women kept a close eye out for their husbands, who had seemingly disappeared. It wasn't until they went to return to the beach for a swim before dinner that they discovered the men had snuck back into the house and were both sleeping peacefully in their suites. A servant had supplied the information when Katarina had requested Blaise be informed of her whereabouts in the hope that they might join them.

"You know, I think we might have the night to ourselves," Ginny said thoughtfully.

"Most likely." Katarina sighed heavily with disappointment. "What would you like to do then?"

Ginny thought for a moment and then a broad smiled crept over her face. "After dinner, and when the twins are in bed, how about we have a girlie night?"

Katarina brightened immediately. "You mean facials, nails, hair—"

"Yep," Ginny confirmed. "We may as well enjoy ourselves while those two are being anti-social."

"What time are the twins going to bed?" Katarina inquired cheekily.

Ginny smiled broadly. "I should think it will be early, considering the day we've had."

The two women linked arms as they wandered back to the beach with the twins. They discussed their plans for the evening in depth and decided that even if the men decided to make an appearance they would have to keep each other company, because they were now looking forward to the evening and weren't prepared to change their plans.

* * *

When the women arrived for breakfast on Sunday morning they found two very sheepish looking wizards sitting at the table on the terrace. Both men had clearly already been for a swim and were now enjoying a lavish breakfast with the children.

Ginny and Katarina hadn't seen them the evening before at all, but in the end they weren't all that bothered by their absence. Together, the women enjoyed a long soak in an oversized tub, facials, pedicures, manicures, and after all that, they experimented with hairstyles. It was an old fashioned girls' night in, complete with the analyzing of a little gossip that they'd both heard floating around for a while.

Draco and Blaise greeted their wives humbly and politely held their chairs, while they made themselves comfortable. Neither of them needed to be told that their behavior the day before was going to be frowned upon and they would have to make up for it in some way today.

"Tea, ladies?" Draco offered, holding the pot up to show them they had thought to order one.

"Thank you," Ginny answered.

"Yes, please," Katarina responded.

Ginny's eyes opened wide for a fraction of a second before she forced a normal expression back onto her face as Draco poured their tea himself. He rarely poured tea and this alone told her how guilty he was feeling.

"Something to eat, ladies?" Blaise suggested, waving his hands over the food platters.

"Some fresh fruit would be lovely," Ginny replied.

A panicked look passed through Blaise's eyes. "I'll get you some."

"If it's too much trouble--" Ginny started.

"No trouble at all," Blaise assured her. "Anything you want."

Ginny couldn't hide the small smile that played around her lips. It seemed the boys had a plan to exonerate themselves: do everything that was asked of them.

Katarina winked across the table at Ginny, and then started rubbing the back of her neck.

"Are you all right, Kat?" Blaise inquired.

"I slept awkwardly," Katarina complained. "My shoulders are so stiff at the moment. A nice massage would loosen them up."

"Say no more, love," Blaise said as he jumped to his feet and took up position behind his wife.

"Oh, yes," Katarina moaned gratefully as Blaise's hands worked magic with her allegedly stiff muscles.

By the time they'd finished breakfast, the men had granted all sorts of requests and made more promises than they could possibly keep. The girls were making the most of their compliance and were even stepping in to secure some promises for the twins. It was amazing how fast their husbands dropped to their knees with a bat of their eyelashes.

Ginny leaned back in her chair as she drained the last of her tea. It was terrible, but she was determined to finish it, because Draco poured it for her. The moment she placed the empty teacup on the table she locked eyes with Katarina, who was smirking at her in a conspiratorial manner.

While it would have been easy to keep Draco and Blaise to their promises, or as many as they could manage in the time they had left, Ginny thought that it might be time to let them off the hook. She sent children off to play and ordered Millie to keep an eye on them. When the twins were out of earshot she prepared to expose what they knew about what the boys were attempting.

"You know, this has all been very nice," Ginny started indifferently.

"Is there something wrong?" Blaise asked quickly. "Something you'd like, perhaps?"

"No, I think you two have promised far more than you can deliver already." Ginny smiled at the men. "We just wanted you both to know that you didn't have to go through so much to ease your guilty consciences."

"Guilty? What do we have to feel guilty about?" Draco asked abruptly.

Ginny's smile didn't slip, but she added a knowingly look, which she passed to her husband, who now wouldn't look her in the eye. "All you had to do was say you're sorry."

"Sorry?" Blaise repeated, though it was most definitely a question given his slight look of confusion.

"Yes, it's that easy," Ginny responded.

While the men exchanged glances the women remained silent, allowing them to have their silent conversation in the hope that this charade might end and they could get on with enjoying their last day.

"All right." Draco sighed heavily. "We're sorry we got so drunk and basically left you to your own devices yesterday."

"Blaise?" Katarina prompted when her husband remained silent.

"Yes, we're both very sorry," Blaise conceded quietly. "These things happen."

"They do," Ginny agreed. "Now, can we possibly move forward and enjoy what time we have left without you two making fools of yourselves?"

Draco spun around, blinking at his wife as if he thought his ears might have been telling him lies. "Fools?"

Ginny nodded. "Fools. You're both falling over yourselves trying to please us and it's really disturbing, because neither of you are really that attentive."

"Yes, I am," Draco refuted.

"Draco, you poured my tea," Ginny pointed out calmly. "The only time you pour my tea is when you think you're in trouble."

"I—well, I thought you might—"

"Not growl at you if you did it yourself?" Ginny finished for him.

No amount of his former Slytherin self could hide from the facts when his wife knew him so well. It seemed the game was up and they were thoroughly embarrassed by their efforts. "Okay, we thought we'd spoil both of you in the hope that you'd forget to tell us off," he admitted straightforwardly.

"I'm so glad we got that sorted out," Katarina expressed with delight. "I'm getting a little warm. Anyone for a swim?"

As the group moved towards the beach, laughter could be heard as the women teased their husbands over their efforts to regain a position in their good books. The men took the teasing in their stride, mostly for fear of upsetting the newly restored good mood in the house.

After their goodbyes had been said and promises to catch up with each other soon had been made, it was an exhausted, yet happy, Malfoy family who surrounded an International Portkey late in the afternoon. They had had a wonderful long weekend, and though they were sad to be leaving the beauty of Paleokastritsa behind, it would be good to get home and resume their normal lives. If one had to live like this every day, one would end up very exhausted. Besides, they could return anytime they liked, according to the offer Blaise had made while bidding them a safe trip home.

* * *

****

**_AUTHOR'S NOTE_**

_Thanks to Rainpuddle13 for her fantastic beta skills!_


	15. Hell Hath No Fury

**_Disclaimer_**_: I don't own any of the characters you may recognize from the wonderful world of Harry Potter, they all belong to the revered JK Rowling; I just like to play with them a little._

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

**HELL HATH NO FURY**

Boredom was simply a state of mind and, in essence, she knew this, but it did nothing to chase away the long, lonely hours she was being forced to endure away from her children. Of course, their education was of paramount importance and she'd not dream of interfering to the point of disturbing their lessons, but she missed them dreadfully, and it seemed no activity could replace their presence. To make matters worse, she had started crying over the smallest of things, or rather she'd started crying _more_ over the smallest things and sometimes over nothing at all.

The tutor, Clare Sheehan, had arrived on the Monday, as arranged. She'd spent the next few days settling in and meeting with the children occasionally in an effort to get to know them better. Then, as tradition stated, Clare started their formal education on the first day of September.

That first day Ginny had rather enjoyed the freedom that came with having the twins otherwise occupied. On the second day the charm began to wear off and she'd wandered aimlessly around the manor, not really achieving anything, but not able to remain entirely idle either. She rejoiced the weekend and with it the return of fulltime care of her babies.

The first full week of her freedom had been an experience, to say the least. She'd taken tea with her mother-in-law more times than she cared to remember, attended two garden tea parties and had begged off a third — she thought she might go insane if she had to make polite conversation with those snobby women one more time that week. To keep occupied she'd also had lunch away from the manor several times with whoever was available on the day. No matter how she tried to fill in the hours, Ginny couldn't shake the deep feeling of loneliness that engulfed her when the twins were in the classroom.

To make matters even more difficult, Drake had grown bored with his lessons and was starting to make a fuss about having to attend every day. Ginny found it increasingly difficult to make him go each day, especially when she'd like nothing better than to have his company. It hadn't become out of place for her to start the day with a solid cry just after the twins went off to their classroom, followed by a harsh self-admonishment for being foolish.

She put aside her book with a frustrated huff and checked the clock for maybe the umpteenth time in the last half an hour. There were still another two hours before she was due at her Midwitch's office for a check up. What she needed was distraction, something to hold her attention for more than thirty seconds and something that might chase away thoughts of how she had failed over the last few weeks.

Rather than sit in her parlor sighing herself into unconsciousness, Ginny decided to take a walk. She stood and wandered slowly towards the gardens. Perhaps an hour or so of appreciating nature would see her mind returned to its right state.

* * *

Ginny sat impatiently waiting for her Midwitch to arrive. Even though she was bored to death at home, she wasn't really in the mood to sit around all day waiting for a check up that would tell her nothing she didn't already know — everything was fine. It was times like this that she'd wished she'd taken Narcissa's advice and had elected to receive home visits from her Midwitch, but then the appointments at least provided opportunities for her to escape the manor with a real purpose. Still, at almost twenty-eight weeks pregnant it was most annoying to have to sit around in an uncomfortable chair, waiting for an undetermined amount of time, for the woman in question to show up.

The Midwitch in question had, apparently, been summoned to St. Mungo's and, according to her receptionist, should be on her way back to the office soon. Whether or not she had something better to do was beside the point, Ginny simply didn't want to be sitting around doing nothing. She sighed heavily and reached for the pile of magazines sitting on the table beside her. Most of the publications were battered and ancient, but it was better than sitting there twiddling her thumbs.

She thumbed through a back issue of the Quibbler, not really paying attention to what was in the trashy magazine, until her eyes registered a photograph of her husband within the pages. With determined purpose, she flicked back through to find the page in question. A full-page photograph of a sneering Draco preceded the article, and there were photographs of her and the twins on the opposite page.

_The Heir's Heir? I Think Not!_

_By Rita Skeeter_

_The sudden appearance of not one, but two children claiming to be of the wealthy Malfoy lineage has wizarding world gossips talking up a storm. Their mother, Ginevra Weasley, has paraded five-year-old twins, Drake and Angelique, before the affluent family and appears to have succeeded in assuring her future income, for the time being, by claiming they are the offspring of the sole Malfoy heir, Draco Malfoy. However, as we endeavor to uncover the truth we have come upon many facts that simply do not support the story the Malfoy family seemingly believe._

_We wonder, as many do, if these children are legitimately of this family or if this is a ploy by their mother to guarantee her future is comfortable. One only has to look at Miss Weasley's background to ascertain whether or not she has anything to gain from falsely claiming the paternity of her illegitimate children. _

_Born to a profoundly poor wizarding family, the pureblood witch must find nurturing two growing children a challenge in the current economic climate. Most especially when we take into consideration her lack of practical employment skills — the woman has never held a paid position within the wizarding world._

_The date of conception seems to be a somewhat contentious issue also and could well prove, once and for all, that the paternity claim is, indeed false. There is overwhelming evidence that at the time of the alleged conception Mr. Draco Malfoy was residing in Paris and did not step foot on English soil for a period of two years. So we ask how could he possibly have fathered twins when he was not in the same country as the mother? Put simply, he couldn't have, and it's unlikely, given Miss Weasley's economic background, she's ever left the shores of Britain._

_Which, of course, leads us to how Miss Weasley fooled the astute Malfoy family into believing her tale long enough to gain access to the heir. Our sources inform us there have been suggestions that a combination of Polyjuice Potion and Aging Potion have been used to make little Drake appear more like a Malfoy, in fact a mirror image of his alleged father. With the visual evidence, it is believed, there has been no request for a paternity charm to be performed._

_Not satisfied with allowing Mr. Malfoy to believe he has fathered two children without his knowledge, it is now rumored that Miss Weasley seduced the heir and is, once again, claiming to be pregnant. Of course, it begs the question: If she is truly with child, is the baby his or had she already conceived before she made contact with him? Perhaps the real father wants nothing to do with her or his unborn child? Is Miss Weasley is simply trying to provide for her ever-expanding family? This intrepid reported suggests she take a refresher course on useful charms of the contraceptive variety._

_Some would suggest that given their remotely different backgrounds there is understandable doubt over whether or not they've even shared intimate relations. Draco Malfoy, a self confessed playboy, has admitted in many interviews that he has trouble keeping track of the women he associates with, most of whom are glamorous models or beautiful famous faces — a description that does not fit the homely Ginevra Weasley. While it is not unlikely that under the influence of alcohol or magic he may have shared her bed on one occasion, it does warrant questioning._

_Is it any wonder people are skeptical about the validity of Miss Weasley's claim to the Malfoy fortune when all the evidence is presented? We will continue to pursue the truth in this evolving story and report to you, our readers, the facts as they come to light._

Blood began thundering past her ears. She couldn't quite believe her eyes. This was the article Draco had tried so hard to hide from her. The more she read the angrier she got. How could he not tell her what they'd implied in this piece of trash? Without conscious thought of what she was about to do, Ginny stood with the magazine in hand and stormed out of the office.

"Mrs. Malfoy? Mrs. Malfoy!"

The receptionist's shocked tone faded as Ginny entered the street and the door slammed shut.

Ginny started down the street, her pace furious and her destination predetermined without consideration. Other pedestrians where pushed aside when they got in her way. She didn't pause when she reached the front doors of Malfoy Holdings. The greetings from employees who recognized her as she stormed across the foyer were determinedly ignored. If she hadn't been so furious, she'd have found they all stepped out of the way to allow her clear passage to lifts hilarious. She tapped her foot impatiently as the lift rode slowly down from the top of the building to the ground floor. When the doors finally slid open in front of her she entered and stabbed her finger at the uppermost button. No one dared to join her.

Her journey from the lift to Draco's office was much the same as her experience in the foyer. Employees greeted her, she ignored them and they stepped aside when they saw her expression. The gossiping began immediately and somehow preceded her to her husband's office. When she entered his secretary was already on her feet ready to greet her.

"Mrs. Malfoy, how lovely to see you," the secretary said with a show of over exuberance.

Ginny ignored the polite, yet nervous greeting from the other woman and strode across to the double doors of Draco's office. She threw them open only to find an empty office. "Where is he?"

"I believe Mr. Malfoy is in a meeting at the moment."

"Where?"

"He really can't be—"

"WHERE?"

"Boardroom," the woman admitted quietly. She knew there'd be no way of actually stopping the young wife from entering the room, so she stood back and allowed her clear passage.

Without even glancing at the secretary, Ginny crossed the corridor and threw the double doors to the boardroom open. She stood in the doorway glaring around the room until her eyes landed on her husband. Everyone's attention had been garnered when the doors had bounced off the walls as they opened and no one missed the deadly glint in her eyes.

"Draco!"

Draco was on his feet and moving towards her even before she snapped his name. "Ginny, love... Is everything all right?"

She shook the magazine at him and his eyes grew wide. This wasn't good. She was never meant to find out about that disgusting article. He swallowed hard and reminded himself to remain calm. "Where did you get that?"

"Midwitch's office," Ginny snapped. "It seems they don't replace their reading material as often as they should."

"Let's go to my office," Draco said evenly.

"Why? I'm the only one who never read it!"

"Gin, love you need to calm down."

"Calm down? CALM DOWN! I DON'T BLOODY WELL WANT TO _CALM DOWN_!"

"All right," Draco said quietly. "I know you're upset, but we won't achieve anything by standing here. Let's go to my office and discuss this in private."

"_No_." Ginny's venomous response through her teeth conveyed far more than just her answer. She was beyond irate, and she was out for blood.

Draco bravely placed his hand on his wife's elbow to guide her out of the room, but she pulled away with a snarl.

"Ginevra," Lucius said in a low tone. He, along with the entire room, had been watching the couple, and it didn't seem like Draco was going to be successful in taking the discussion to a more private setting. "We do not discuss private matters in a room full of employees."

She turned her burning glare on her father-in-law and shook the publication in his face. "This is hardly private."

"Regardless, we have a reputation to maintain. We do not, _under any circumstances_, air our displeasure in public."

"To hell with reputation," Ginny spat viciously.

"Father, I think it might be an idea to dismiss the meeting... We can reschedule tomorrow," Draco suggested unevenly.

"Yes, I suppose it would." Lucius wandered back to the head of the table muttering some not so complimentary things under his breath about stubborn witches. "This meeting is adjourned. We will reconvene at a later date. You will be advised, in due course, of the arrangements."

The wizards filed out of the room quickly. Even though Ginny was still standing in the middle of the doorway, not one of them dared to look at her. They stepped around her politely, allowing as much room as humanly possible between themselves and her.

As the last man left the room Lucius, once again, approached his son. "Would you like me to stay?"

"No thank you, Father." Draco didn't come across as confident as he would have liked. Truth be told, he was in over his head with this situation. "You could check on the progress our legal people have made on this matter for me."

"I'll do that and get back to you. You realize you will have apologies to make at the next meeting."

"Yes, I'm aware of that."

"Good. I'll bring you the information when it comes to hand."

"Thank you."

As the door closed behind Lucius, Draco surveyed his wife. Ginny was so livid she appeared ready to explode. Her face was almost purple and she was breathing erratically. There was one thing in particular bothered him about her appearance: her eyes; they were dark and dangerous, and directed at him. In short, she was murderous, and he was the only person in the firing line.

He really didn't know what to say to fix the situation. Even though his reasons for keeping her in the dark about that particular article were genuine, he didn't think it was going to be enough to calm her down at this stage. Viable explanations were coming to mind, but he kept dismissing them as weak and not enough to placate Ginny.

"How could you not tell me about this?"

"I didn't want you upset over disgusting lies," Draco replied softly. "I told you our legal people are—"

"I don't care what the legal people are doing! Did you really think I would never find out?"

"I had hoped you'd never see the article. It's vile, and you don't deserve to be treated like that." Draco looked hopefully at her. He wanted to reach out, take her in his arms and make all the hurt go away, but in the mood she was in he knew he'd be pushed away. She didn't want comfort just yet, at least not while she was still craving blood. "I know it was foolish to keep it from you, but it was all I could think to do at the time. You weren't exactly in a great way when it came out... You were on bed rest and under instruction not to upset yourself. I didn't know what else to do."

"So you pretended it didn't exist?"

"No, I just never told you about it— At least not until you found out about it. The very moment I saw the article I had our legal team on the case. That's not to say I didn't want to do something myself, but Father reminded me, rather forcefully I might add, that I'd be no good to you or the children if I was in Azkaban."

"You should have told me! The whole thing is about _me_ for Merlin's sake."

"Perhaps, but you weren't well at the time, and I didn't want to upset you."

"When haven't I been well?"

"You do remember fainting early in your pregnancy, don't you?"

Ginny rolled her eyes with exasperation. "I fainted because I got myself too wound up at your father and for no other reason. The last thing I needed was a week in bed."

"Think about what you just said, Ginny." Draco paused and waited for a response. None came. "You fainted because you got too _upset_. What makes you think I'd show you that stupid article and risk having you faint on me again?"

"I—I had a right to know."

"I disagree."

"It was about me!"

"And you weren't fit to deal with it, so I took care of it the best way I could. Besides, your own family agreed with me."

"I don't care what my family agreed with. _I_ didn't agree."

Draco exhaled loudly. They were getting nowhere. She wanted him to admit he was wrong, but he knew he wasn't. "Ginny, I did what was best at the time. You weren't in any condition to handle something like that, and I wasn't about risk your health or the well being of our baby. I made a decision as the head of the family and, as my wife, you should accept that without question."

The moment the words left his mouth Draco knew he'd made a critical error. This could cost him his comfortable life or at least his bed in the short term. Ginny's eyes had gone from wide to narrow in an instant and her gaze was nothing short of lethal.

"We weren't married at the time," she hissed.

"We were engaged and, as such, you were my wife in practice." Unable to help himself, Draco responded angrily.

All the air seemed to have left Ginny's body in an instant. She stood there staring at her husband disbelievingly. Her brain couldn't quite comprehend what she'd just heard him say. _Wife in practice_... It echoed through her thoughts. _Just what did that mean?_ _Had she lost her identity somewhere along the way? _ Until now she hadn't thought so, but doubts were now creeping into her mind.

"Ginny, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get angry at you."

She stood there staring incredulously at Draco and shaking her head.

"I did what did, because I love you and for no other reason. I wanted to protect you."

_Protect? Narcissa appears weak, because she's protected so much._ Ginny's thoughts were toppling over one another in an effort to make sense of the situation. "I am _not_ your mother."

"I didn't say you were."

"I don't need protection."

"I never said you did— Well, I did, but only for your health at the time." Draco took a step closer, determined to close the distance between them. "Ginny, you're the strongest woman I know. You don't _need_ protecting from anything, but that doesn't change the fact that I _want_ to protect you from unpleasantness. I love you."

"There's a difference between protecting me and not telling me something altogether," Ginny pointed out harshly. "People must have been laughing behind my back for so long."

"No, love, everyone thought the article was disgusting."

"That doesn't mean some people didn't believe it!"

"Only fools would believe that tripe or anything printed in that particular magazine." Each time he spoke Draco inched closer to her until he was close enough to feel her breath on his cheek. Still he didn't reach for her, even though his arms ached to hold her.

"There are plenty of fools out there who believe everything they print and they'd all think—"

"Does it really matter what they think? We know the truth, and that's all that matters," Draco said gently.

"I—I don't know. I just—" Ginny's train of thought abandoned her as she tried to put her feelings into words. She could feel her initial anger evolving into something else, something she didn't want it to, but was powerless to stop.

Draco watched her face carefully. He knew what was coming next. These days it was only a matter of time. She'd get angry, and then her chin would quiver.

"I think I might—" Ginny started, but her words dissolved as tears fell from her beneath her lashes.

"Hey, come on, love," Draco crooned as his arms drew her closer. "Don't let those fools upset you."

Ginny's frame shook as she wept loudly into his chest. Draco knew, now from experience, that she'd stop in her own time and nothing could make her stop sooner. He'd asked Bill and Charlie about this phenomenon, and they'd assured him it went with the territory of living with a pregnant witch. Their advice was to hold her close, make the right soothing sounds and never ridicule her emotions, because that was suicidal. When she exhausted herself he'd have to escort her home, because he doubted she'd have enough energy left to Apparate safely, and he didn't like her using the Floo Network this late in her pregnancy.

The door opened and Lucius half stepped into the room before stopping abruptly. "Draco, the legal... My apologies. I'll speak to you later."

Draco almost laughed aloud at the expression on his father's face when he saw Ginny crying. Lucius always found something more pressing to do whenever his daughter-in-law dissolved into tears. It seemed to disturb him significantly to be in the same room as her when she wasn't her normal feisty self.

Thus far she'd shown no sign of slowing her emotional purge. Her breathing was becoming very ragged and Draco could feel his chest becoming quite wet. He resisted the urge to sigh impatiently, having almost lost a vital body part the last time he dared when she was in this frame of mind. With the utmost care, Draco slowly moved them closer to the table, so he could lean back on it while Ginny clung to him. He doubted she even realized they'd moved position.

It was becoming increasingly difficult to estimate how long they'd been standing there. Ginny wasn't crying as raucously as she'd been only minutes before, so he hoped she was beginning to pull herself together. Draco continued to rub her back and make all the appropriate sounds to calm her further, rather than risk asking her if she was feeling better and be accused of being insensitive.

With almost painful slowness, Ginny's tears began to fall less frequently, though her breathing was still ragged enough to be of concern. When her hands came up to wipe her face, Draco hoped she was finished purging for the time being.

"Bloody hormones," she mumbled.

"They get you every time," Draco concurred softly as he handed her his handkerchief. "Come and sit down. I'll get you some tea, then we'll see about getting you home."

"I should go. I walked out of the Midwitch's office without seeing her."

"Don't worry about it. I'm sure she wouldn't be terribly impressed to see you in this state."

"I still have to go."

"Nonsense. Why don't we go to my office?" Draco was eager to have her sit down and collect herself before she got upset again. "We can have a cup of tea, and I'll take care of rescheduling that appointment for you."

"But—"

"No buts, love." Draco's arm slipped around her shoulder. "Come on. Even if you don't need a cup of tea, I do."

Draco led her to his office across the hall, holding her close all the way. He stopped briefly to address his secretary. "We'll have a tea tray immediately."

"Right away, sir."

Once inside his private office, Draco guided his wife to the leather sofa and sat her down. He crossed the floor quickly to his private bathroom and retrieved a damp cloth. When he sat beside Ginny, Draco very gently wiped her face with the cloth. While she wasn't incapable of such a task, he knew she relaxed under his touch and that was the whole point to the exercise.

A slight knock at the door interrupted Draco's ministrations. "Enter."

"Your tea, sir."

"I have a Floo call for you to make as well." Draco put the cloth in Ginny's hand and walked over to his desk. He wrote the contact details for Ginny's Midwitch on a piece of parchment and passed it to his secretary. "After you've rescheduled the appointment for Mrs. Malfoy, ensure my schedule is clear; I'll be attending the appointment with her."

"Of course, sir." A soft smile graced the older secretary's face. She'd known her boss a long time, since he was boy, and this behavior was most endearing to witness.

"Until further notice I'm not to be disturbed."

"Yes, sir." She wanted to suggest he simply take the rest of the day off to spend with his wife, but didn't dare voice her idea.

"There's nothing further."

The secretary left the room briskly and Draco returned to the sofa. He poured two cups of tea and passed one to Ginny. For a few minutes, the only sound that filled the room was the delicate chink of fine china.

"Do you feel better now?" Draco ventured.

"Yes, a bit."

"Good. When you've finished your tea, I'll see you home."

"I can get myself there."

"I know, but I want to take you home." Draco considered his options for a moment. After an upset of this magnitude, Ginny went one of two ways. She either wanted to be left totally alone or she needed to be close to him. "Actually, I might just call it a day and stay home with you."

"Really?"

"Yes, really." Draco smiled. Given her reaction, she wanted him close by today. "I'm sure they can do without me for less than a day and there's nothing urgent going on, besides if something comes up they know where to reach me."

"Thank you."

"I should be thanking you. An afternoon at home relaxing with my beautiful wife is far more appealing than a dreary day at the office."

Ginny smiled softly.

"While you finish your tea, I'll leave some instructions with my secretary."

"All right."

Draco kissed her cheek before he rose and walked to the door. He looked back at Ginny before closing the door behind himself. She was leaning back into the sofa with her eyes closed. There was no question of her level of exhaustion.

"Mr. Malfoy, I've rescheduled Mrs. Malfoy's appointment for tomorrow afternoon, and I've cleared your schedule from midday tomorrow." His secretary passed Draco a piece of parchment with the details of the appointment. "Your schedule is also clear for the rest of today."

"That's what I was thinking. I'm going to take my wife home and stay with her. If anything should come up you know how to contact me."

"Of course, sir."

"I'll just inform my father of our plans and we'll be on our way. Mrs. Malfoy is resting in my office at the moment; see that no one disturbs her."

"Yes, sir."

Draco walked down to Lucius' office quickly. He bypassed his father's secretary and went directly to his father's private office.

"Father?"

"Draco, has Ginevra calmed herself?"

"Yes, I think so. I'm going to take her home and stay with her for the rest of the day."

"Is she incapable of finding her own way home?"

"She's exhausted. I don't feel she has the energy to Apparate safely, and I want to be on hand in case she upsets herself again. I've a feeling this isn't over yet."

"I see."

"If something should come up let me know. I'm hoping Ginny might sleep the rest of the afternoon away."

"I will. The legal department reported that all is heading towards a hefty settlement for the article. However, they seem to be stuck on the retraction statement you insisted on having published."

"I won't back down. They will print the retraction or face the consequences."

"Very well, I'll inform them to proceed. Perhaps a deadline should be set?"

"Yes, sooner rather than later would be better. Now that Ginny's seen the article, I want the whole business over with."

"I'll inform them to force the issue."

"Thank you."

"We need to reschedule that meeting Ginevra interrupted."

"Tomorrow morning?"

"Possibly," Lucius mused aloud. "I'll let you know tonight."

"Fine, just don't reschedule for tomorrow afternoon."

"Why?"

"I'm going with Ginny to the Midwitch's office."

"Is that necessary?"

"Besides wanting to go with her, I can at least keep an eye on her reading material while I'm there."

"Very well."

Draco knew his father was now irritated at him, and he didn't see the point of hanging around to see if he'd vent his displeasure. "I'll see you at home this evening."

"Yes. Inform your mother I should be on time."

"I will."

Without further delay, Draco returned to his own office. Ginny had drifted off to sleep in the few minutes he'd been gone. He quietly retrieved his cloak and readied himself to leave.

"We're leaving now," Draco instructed his secretary.

"All right, sir. Have a nice afternoon and we'll see you tomorrow."

Draco gently lifted Ginny into his arms. She'd gained a little weight, but not so much that he struggled to hold her.

"Draco, I must have—"

"Shh, love. Hold on, I'm taking you home."

Too sleepy to do much else, Ginny tightened her arms around her husband's neck as instructed and waited to arrive at the manor.

* * *

Draco drew a chair up to the bed and sat watching his wife sleep. He could curse himself for allowing this to happen. Ginny didn't deserve this level of upset. His thoughts centered around what he could have done to avoid this scene, but no viable answers were coming to mind. He simply did what he had to do at the time and nothing he said or did now would undo that.

Sometime later the bedchamber door opened, and Millie slipped into the room. The aging servant hovered just over the threshold looking uncomfortable.

"Master be forgiving Millie for intruding." She bowed low, scraping her nose on the floor.

"What is it, Millie?" Draco asked wearily.

Millie stepped further into the room. "Little Master Drake and Miss Angel be finished lessons for the day."

"Of course. Thank you," Draco muttered uncertainly.

"Millie will sit with Mistress," the house elf offered.

Draco looked down at his hand in wonder. Millie was stroking it with her gnarled hand affectionately.

"Master not be worrying. Mistress is strong witch."

Draco nodded solemnly and stood up. "If she wakes—"

"Millie will alert Master right away," the servant promised.

He didn't quite make it out the door before looking back. The scene that greeted his worried gaze made him feel a little better. Ginny would be fine under the watchful eyes of Millie. Fond memories of his childhood flooded back to him as he observed the servant hovering near his wife's sleeping form. Of all the servants that were attached to the Malfoy family, Millie was the only one who consistently showed she actually cared for the family. With a little more confidence, Draco made his way downstairs to his children.

"Daddy!" Angel squealed as she hurtled across the playroom and launched herself at her father.

"Hello, Princess, how were your lessons today?"

"They were good. We did reading and writing and…"

Angel's excited rhetoric faced into the background as Draco's eyes met his son's. Drake was standing stiffly and staring at his father with almost frosty eyes.

"Do you think so, Daddy?" Angel asked.

His daughter's persistent tone cut into his thoughts. Draco's eyes only just started to move back to her when Drake's gaze sharpened into a particularly accusing glare.

"Where's Mummy?" Drake demanded.

Draco faltered for just a second as thoughts of where the blame lay for his wife's current condition sprang into his head again. "She's a bit tired this afternoon, so she's having a nap," he answered calmly.

"I want Mummy," Drake declared defiantly.

"When she wakes up, she'll join us," Draco assured him.

"I—" Drake started.

"Come over here, mate," Draco beckoned as he knelt down on the floor, so that he didn't tower over his children. "Come on," he encouraged when Drake had only taken two steps in his direction.

The little wizard wandered over reluctantly and stopped just in front of his father.

"Listen," Draco began softly. "Your uncles told me that it's quite normal for Mummy to be feeling tired and need a nap some days, so you're not to worry if she does."

"Why are you home then?" Drake asked astutely.

"Well, Mummy called into see me at the office, and she said was feeling a little worn out, so I decided that I'd come home with her and spend the afternoon with you two," Draco explained in what he hoped was a believable manner. "The office is rather boring at the moment, and I'd much rather spend the rest of the day with you."

"Oh," Drake murmured.

Draco could tell his son was fighting with his instinct that clearly told him there was something wrong with his mother. All he could do was wait and hope that Drake would trust his words, because to push the matter would have alerted the bright little wizard to a problem.

"Can we have a tea party, Daddy?" Angel asked excitedly.

"If you'd like," Draco responded.

"We haven't had afternoon tea yet, Angel," Drake interrupted with all the sternness the five-year-old could muster.

"I don't see why we couldn't combine both activities," Draco commented casually.

"We always have afternoon tea with Mummy," Drake stressed.

"Don't you want to have afternoon tea with me?" Draco asked, allowing just a hint of hurt to enter his tone.

Drake averted his eyes, suddenly finding the rug to his left of his feet fascinating, and began to fidget uncomfortably. "Want Mummy," he mumbled to the floor.

Draco found himself drawing blood from his tongue in the hope that he could successfully stave off the urge to yell at his son. "Angel, can you order afternoon tea?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"Just don't summon Millie, she's—err—doing something for me," Draco instructed quickly.

Angel frowned a little, but nodded her understanding.

When Angel was distracted with the arrangements for afternoon tea, Draco turned his attention back to his son. "Drake, are you going to join us for afternoon tea?"

The little wizard tilted his chin arrogantly. "Is Mummy—"

"Your mother is having a nap," Draco ground out, reaching the end of his patience. "Now, you're either going to join us or you can miss out."

"Hungry," Drake mumbled, not meeting his father's harsh gaze.

"I'll take that as a yes, shall I?" Draco smirked confidently.

Drake, wisely, didn't respond. Instead, he glowered at the rug as if it had done him a great personal injustice.

Draco looked up as a virtual army of servants entered the room and began to set up for afternoon tea under the guidance of his daughter. Angel was instructing them where to place everything just as Narcissa would if she were expecting important company. Rather than intrude, he stood back and allowed her free reign with the house elves. Not once did they question their young mistress' decisions or deviate from the orders she was proficiently issuing.

When she was finally satisfied with how her little table looked, Angel approached her father. "Afternoon tea is served," she announced in a superficial voice.

"Thank you, Angel," Draco intoned formally. "Shall we?" he asked, offering his arm to the little witch.

Angel giggled lightly and stretched up to place her hand on her father's elbow.

"Drake, are you joining us?" Draco inquired. He could hear some form of mumbled response from his son as he walked Angel to her little table. "I might take my afternoon tea on the couch, Princess."

"You can't, Daddy! That would be rude." Angel's expression had morphed into one of utter disgust, an expression that would have rivaled her grandmother's. "You _must_ sit at the table."

"I don't think your chairs will hold my weight," Draco ventured cautiously.

"Silly Daddy!" Angel admonished. "Grandfather sits with me all the time."

"Your grandfather sits in these tiny chairs?"

Angel nodded earnestly. "Uh huh."

Draco contemplated his position for a moment, and then gingerly sat on one of the delicate miniature chairs. His mother had chosen the table and chairs for Angel when they were on their honeymoon. The set was antique and almost fragile in appearance, though that wasn't the entire reason he didn't want to sit down; his concern was completely for his own well being and that of his derriere. To his surprise the chair didn't collapse into a pile of kindling or even give any indication that it might.

"Are you comfortable, Daddy?" Angel asked.

"Umm—yes, of course," Draco fibbed. In truth, he felt if he spent too long sitting on the little chair he wouldn't be able to get up again. "Drake, take a seat."

"I want—"

"Drake, sit down, so we can have afternoon tea," Draco instructed firmly. If he had to sit at the table then his son was most definitely going to join them.

As Drake took the chair opposite, Angel his expression soured even more. The little boy had witnessed his twin host a tea party on more occasions than he cared to recall and he knew he wasn't joining to enjoy this.

"Tea?" Angel offered politely.

"Yes, please," Draco responded with enthusiasm. "Would you like me to pour?"

"No," Angel replied dismissively as she reached for her teapot.

Draco watched on cautiously. The last thing he wanted was for her to scald herself or anyone else with the steaming liquid. He frowned as the tea began to enter the first cup; it was bright orange. "Angel, sweetheart, I don't think that tea is quite right."

The little girl rolled her eyes and sighed heavily. "I'm not allowed to have _real_ tea, Daddy," she explained patiently.

"Oh, of course."

"It's pumpkin juice."

"Yes, I can see that now," Draco uttered, feeling just a little foolish. "It looks very tempting."

Drake snorted rudely.

Draco turned slowly to look at his son, who was staring unabashedly back at him with an overly amused expression. He thought about reprimanding Drake for being rude, but then thought the better of it; after all, he was at least smiling and that was better than being angry or sullen. In an effort to keep Drake's mood light and give himself an avenue of response, Draco poked his tongue at him.

"Daddy! You can't poke your tongue at the table," Angel admonished.

"I'm sorry," Draco muttered insincerely. He tried to sober himself and had almost succeeded when Drake poked his tongue out.

"Drake!" Angel shrieked as her eyes welled up with tears. "You're spoiling my tea party!"

"We were just having some fun," Draco interjected quickly. "We'll behave ourselves now, won't we, Drake?"

The little boy looked up at his father from under his eyelashes with a cheeky smirk on his face.

"Won't we, Drake?" Draco repeated, sending him a meaningful look.

"Yes, Daddy," Drake agreed, albeit insincerely.

Placated, Angel continued pouring pumpkin juice into small teacups. When she was satisfied that everyone had their fair share, she started chatting about nonsensical things, like the weather, the way Narcissa often did when she was entertaining.

Draco answered her polite questions and prompted Drake to do likewise when questions were directed at him. It wasn't difficult to imagine himself at one of his mother's garden tea parties, where all conversation was kept on a decorous level, except when his mother was trying to set him up with some friend's second-cousin's neighbor's homely-looking pureblood niece, but that had been when he was single. He wondered briefly just how many times his daughter had witnessed his mother in her hostess role, because Angel seemed to have the routine down pat.

A half an hour later they were still sitting there as Angel dictated everything the two wizards did, so they didn't ruin her tea party. She refilled their 'teacups', offered them fruit flans when she thought it was appropriate and kept the conversation flowing as best she could. Drake was becoming very restless and didn't appreciate his sister dictating when he could have something to eat or how he should eat whatever she allowed him to have. The little boy was also chapping at the bit to do something else, something to wear off the energy that was making him fidgety.

Draco's legs had begun to tingle a little from the position they'd been forced into, and he was exceedingly aware that one wrong move from him could send the entire table flying through the air. He'd lost count of how many tiny cups of 'pumpkin juice tea' he'd drunk, but the quantity was starting to take its toll on his personal comfort. In dire need of a good stretch, but afraid he might relay his discomfit to the children through his expression, Draco deliberately looked towards the door before moving his legs.

Mild surprise colored his face when he saw Ginny leaning on the doorframe with a soft smile on her face. The twins hadn't noticed her yet, so they had a few private moments of silent conversation. Draco could see his wife was amused, but deeply touched by the scene she had stumbled across, and he hoped he was conveying just the right amount of desperation, so she would be prompted to rescue him before he lost the use of his legs altogether.

"Mummy!" Drake left his seat so quickly that the chair went tumbling backwards and landed on its side several feet away from the table.

Angel stood up just as quickly, but rather than running to greet Ginny, her little hands went straight to her hips and she directed a stormy glare at her twin, who had just launched himself at their mother. "Drake, you didn't ask if you could leave the table!"

Draco, who had also began to rise from his chair, promptly dropped his backside back down onto the little wooden seat before his daughter could notice that he, too, was about to join his mutinous son. He couldn't help the amused smirk that stretched across his face as Angel kept ranting and Drake kept ignoring her, preferring to bury his head in Ginny's stomach.

"Drake, you have to come back and ask!" Angel stomped her foot. "Daddy, he's ruining our tea party."

"Calm down, sweetheart," Draco crooned. "Why don't you go and say hello to Mummy? I'm sure she'd love a cup of tea."

Angel looked at her father skeptically, then carefully pushed her chair back and walked over to her mother.

With Angel having left the table of her own accord, Draco stood up, safe in the knowledge that the pint-sized autocrat wouldn't reprimand him now. His legs protested profusely, but with the children keeping Ginny occupied no one noticed his discomfort; a small mercy he was grateful for. The last thing he needed to hear were jokes about him getting old when he felt like he was standing on his grandfather's legs. As his blood started to flow more freely in his lower limbs his muscles started to feel less cramped and more comfortable, and though a good stretch would have felt wonderful, it would have most likely alerted his family to his problem.

Absorbed in regaining the full use of his legs again, Draco failed to notice Ginny moving towards him. She'd somehow managed to disentangle herself from the twins for the time being and he was startled to find her standing beside him.

"You looked like you were having fun," Ginny said with a hint of a teasing smile.

"I think you're stretching the truth," Draco murmured.

"I saw what I saw," Ginny replied smugly.

Draco gave her a derisive look and smoothly changed the subject. "How are you feeling? Did you have a nice sleep?"

"I'm feeling much better."

"Good. You had me worried," Draco admitted.

"About earlier—"

Draco placed a single finger over her lips. "Shh. We'll talk about it when there's something new to talk about. At the moment, there's nothing you don't know."

"But—"

"No buts, my love, and that's an order," Draco responded. Though his tone was lighthearted, his instruction was quite serious and he was sure Ginny realized that. "I promise we'll talk when there's something to talk about."

"All right."

"Millie was supposed to tell me when you—"

"When I woke up?" Ginny smiled knowingly. "The first thing I did was tell her not to bother."

"Undermining the master of the house again," Draco mumbled with a shake of his head.

"No, you didn't," Ginny taunted, a cheeky grin making her eyes twinkle with mischief. "Millie followed my instructions to the letter."

"I see," Draco drawled playfully. "So you _think_ you're the boss now?"

"Sweetheart, I don't think… I _know_."

Her fingers were roaming up and down his chest, distracting him from what she was saying. One thing he did realize was that although they were joking around there was a serious undertone to the playful banter. Ginny had taken over as mistress of the house, and her word was now law with the servants. It was something that pleased him greatly, because he knew he no longer had to worry about how she was coping with her duties as his wife. "Do you want to know what I know?"

She smiled up at him as he gathered her in his arms and pulled her into his chest. "What might that be?"

"I love you," Draco responded in a throaty voice.

"I love you too," Ginny whispered breathily.

The fact that the twins were still in the same room registered when Draco's lips were only a few millimeters away from Ginny's, and then only because at that precise moment Drake expressed his usual protest with a loud groan. Too close to deny himself now, Draco claimed his wife's mouth with fervor, successfully ignoring the loud, ongoing objection from the other side of the room.

If he didn't think it would have caused a riot, Draco would have scooped Ginny into his arms and carried her back upstairs. Her mouth felt like heaven, so warm and inviting. Just the thought of it trailing over his skin sent blood surging through his body, creating delightfully warm, tingly sensations in his extremities.

A sharp tap on his hip alerted Draco to the presence of another. He didn't have to look to see who it was, but still his eyes cracked open and turned in the direction of the persistent intruder. Drake was looking up at him with an impatient expression. Very carefully Draco slipped his mouth away from Ginny's. "Yes?"

"Mummy's tea is getting cold," Drake stated smugly.

"I don't think Mummy cares," Draco whispered in return with a smirk, delighting in the fact that while he was talking to his son Ginny had kept herself busy placing kisses along his jaw line and was now traveling down his neck.

"She doesn't like cold tea," Drake pointed out.

"We can order a fresh pot," Draco countered, trying his best to stifle a moan of appreciation as Ginny's teeth sank gently into his earlobe.

Drake opened his mouth to launch another protest, but snapped it shut when his father lost his battle with the appreciative moan that wanted so desperately to be heard.

"You have woken up in a friendly mood," Draco murmured into Ginny's ear. "Should I see if Mother minds watching the children?"

The question seemed to disturb Ginny's flow, because she lifted her head away from his neck. A slightly guilty blush rose from her chest and colored her cheeks. "No, I think we should spend some time with them."

"That will only work if you behave yourself," Draco responded with a cheeky smirk, while one of his hands traveled down to squeeze her backside. "Otherwise you might scar your son for life."

"Keep doing that and there's not a chance that I'll be able to resist," Ginny muttered throatily.

Draco's eyes widened measurably as her hand floated close to his groin. "Yes, well… I think you should have your tea now," he uttered, removing her hands from their potentially nefarious positions.

As her hands drifted from his body and she moved to place an appropriate distance between them, Draco cursed the fact that he had to a responsible adult. He could envision bending her over the small couch near the bookshelf and having his wicked way with her until she could only scream unintelligibly, but it was something that would have to wait until the twins were otherwise occupied. A derisive smirk crawled across his face as he watched his son claim Ginny the moment she moved far enough away from him. Given the smug look his son sent him, Draco knew he wouldn't be allowed quite that close to her again for some hours. That thought was confirmed only seconds later when Drake perched himself on the couch right next to Ginny. The little boy was holding fast to his mother's hand while he nattered her ear off.

Draco moved over to the armchair that was close to the couch. It wasn't until he'd made himself comfortable that he noticed the look of warning on his son's face. A flick of his eyes in Ginny's direction confirmed she was completely oblivious to the competition being waged for her attention as she negated Angel's persistent requests that she sit at the small table. Unable to help himself, Draco smirked and lifted his chin haughtily, silently challenging Drake to keep her undivided attention.

Drake curled his lip slightly in response and turned his attention to his mother. "Mummy, can you help me with my words?"

"Of course, darling," Ginny responded in a pleased tone. "Why don't you go and get them?"

With no further encouragement, Drake slipped off the couch and ran from the room, but not before giving his father a smug look of satisfaction.

Draco cleared his throat purposefully and succeeded in gaining the attention of both witches. "Angel, why don't you get Mummy some afternoon tea from the table? I'm sure she'd like something with her tea."

Delighted to be able to do something in her imaginary role as hostess Angel skipped over to the small table and began selecting delicious morsels to tempt her mother's palate.

"You do know what Drake is doing, don't you?" Draco whispered urgently, as he slid into the now vacant seat beside his wife.

"What?" Ginny asked amusedly.

"He's trying to monopolize your attention."

"Draco, we always spend this time together doing little things," Ginny explained.

"Doing schoolwork?"

"I must admit, it's usually Angel who brings up—"

"So I'm right."

"About?"

"Him dominating your time purposely."

"He needs help with his words," Ginny defended her son.

"He's trying to steer your attention away from me."

"Nonsense. It's good that he wants to work on something he's having trouble with."

"Watch him if you don't believe me," Draco challenged. "He's so smug right now, because he thinks he's got your undivided attention."

Ginny raised just one eyebrow and a small smile played around her lips. "And you're warning me because?"

"Well… It's impolite to ignore the other occupants of the room."

"Like you?"

"After your little _performance_ you'd think I'd warrant _some_ attention."

"I see."

"No, you don't see," Draco countered. He most certainly didn't like the way she was smiling at him: patiently, like he was a spoiled child who was determined to get his way. "Your son is deliberately trying to push me out of your—"

"I've got it, Mummy!"

Draco pulled a face as Drake charged back into the room, bellowing at the top of his lungs. The little wizard narrowed his eyes ever so briefly when he saw that his father had claimed his seat before squeezing himself between the two adults. Draco wouldn't have thought it possible, but his son successfully wriggled his way in between them, forcing Draco to move over a bit to give him enough room to sit comfortably.

It was with resigned horror that Draco watched his son manipulate Ginny's attention and even more disturbing was the ease with which the miniature wizard did it. Ginny knew what he was doing, he'd told her himself, but she allowed him to claim her undivided attention without so much as a questioning look. Frustrated with the outcome of their little discussion and her refusal to call Drake on his behavior, Draco sat in the corner of the couch, where he'd been shoved, and sulked.

As head of the house, he shouldn't have to compete with anyone for his wife's attention. In fact, they should all be paying him attention. He was the master of the house, after all. Uncharitable thoughts ran riot through Draco's mind while Ginny and Drake worked through his new words with a little input from Angel. They were thoughts that he shouldn't be entertaining, but knowing that didn't make them disappear. While he watched them carefully he wondered what it would be like when the new baby arrived. Would there be even less time for him? Ginny was devoted to the twins. There was never a time when she put herself, or him for that matter, ahead of their needs, and he had no reason to believe it would be any different when the baby arrived. It was something they probably needed to talk about, but how did he go about broaching the subject? Even in his own mind his thoughts sounded needy and a little piteous.

Draco shook his head to clear his mind. His feelings were running away from him, and the more he thought about it the more pathetic he felt. Rather than dwell on his new fear, Draco paid more attention to exactly what Drake and Ginny were working on, offering his opinion and encouragement when he found an opening to do so. Angel eventually climbed up on his lap, encouraged by his active involvement, so she could work earnestly on the new words they'd been given to learn by sight. After a while, Drake even appeared to forget about the war he was waging for Ginny's attention, smiling at his father when he started to genuinely contribute.

Somehow the afternoon had glided by without any of them really noticing and when Ginny sent the twins to wash their hands for dinner no one was more surprised than Draco. If it weren't for the earlier fear he'd identified he'd have proclaimed the afternoon a grand success, but that dread was still nagging at the back of his mind, casting a shadow over his perception. The thought of bringing the subject up with Ginny still wasn't appealing, so he kept it to himself, allowing the idea to start silently festering.

Throughout dinner the twins kept up their chatter. Draco soon discovered that his son's little performance this afternoon with his schoolwork was just that, a performance. Drake openly claimed to despise the restrictions the classroom placed on him and, even more so, Miss Sheehan, which came as a surprise, because the little boy had liked her when he first met her. Ginny had mentioned she'd been having some difficulty with Drake, but he had no idea that the little boy felt so vehemently opposed to schooling. He was just thinking about what to do to change his son's mind about the task when he caught Ginny looking at him expectantly. There was something in her eyes that told him to speak up now and convince Drake that this was for his own good.

Draco took a deep breath and quickly decided upon a no nonsense approach. If Drake was anything like he was, and he was almost a replica, he would make the most of any sign of weakness or loophole he could identify. "Drake, you have to attend classes, so that you're ready for Hogwarts when the time comes."

"It's boring, and Miss Sheehan is an old hag," Drake announced grumpily.

"You didn't make it seem boring this afternoon. In fact, you looked like you were rather enjoying doing the _extra_ work." Draco smirked. He knew Miss Sheehan didn't set homework, because he had strictly forbidden it at this stage.

Drake glowered at his father. "If I get it wrong she does it again and again. It's boring!"

"Sometimes we have to do the boring things so we can do the exciting things later on. How will you get along at Hogwarts if you can't read properly?" Draco posed cleverly.

"I can read," Drake shot back defensively.

"Not well enough to read a Potions book," Draco pointed out, concentrating on the one subject Drake knew something about.

"Don't need reading. I know how to make Potions."

"Drake, you can make one potion from memory," Draco reminded him. "You can't possibly remember every single potion Uncle Sev will require you to prepare for grading. You need to be able to read."

"I can… I'll practice before I go to Hogwarts," Drake declared.

"You'll practice what before you attend Hogwarts?" Lucius posed as he entered the dining room with Narcissa on his arm.

"Potions," Drake answered simply.

"Perhaps you might be able to assist us in convincing Drake that there is some merit in learning to read properly, Father," Draco said smoothly. "It seems he has an aversion for his classes."

"I see," Lucius drawled, holding out a chair for his wife. "I remember having a very similar battle with another little blond-haired wizard some years ago now."

Drake's interest was obviously piqued immediately with this revelation. "Who?"

"Your father," Lucius answered with a smirk directed at Draco.

A little gasp escaped Drake, and he turned his wide gray eyes on the head of the table.

"I hope you don't mind, Ginevra, but we thought we might join you for dessert," Narcissa interrupted politely.

"Not at all," Ginny replied warmly, turning to instruct the servants to set two extra places, but found the instruction already being carried out.

"Lucius informed me that you were quite upset today," Narcissa enquired discreetly.

"I'm fine now." Ginny smiled warmly.

"Well, if there's anything I can do," Narcissa offered.

"Thank you, Mother," Draco interrupted. The last thing he wanted to do was revisit that subject today. He looked pointedly at his father, silently pleading for him to change the subject. "Father, you were about to say something?"

"Yes, your father, much like you, disliked the classes he was forced to endure in his years prior to Hogwarts," Lucius continued with his eyes on Drake. "Not that his abhorrence for the classes gained him any freedom from them, because it's vital that one learns all he can before commencing formal schooling."

Drake frowned at his grandfather, not quite understanding what he'd said.

"What your grandfather is saying is that it doesn't matter if you don't like going to class, you have to," Draco clarified.

"But why?" Drake inquired. "I know how to read, and I make good potions."

"It simply isn't enough," Lucius countered. "You don't yet read well enough to brew anything from a book."

"I can remember really good," Drake argued.

"Professor Snape does not suffer fools in his classroom, and those who don't read well enough are automatically classified as fools," Lucius informed him.

"Don't like Miss Sheehan," Drake grumbled, changing tact in the hope it might add weight to his argument.

"Miss Sheehan, while not my choice for a tutor, appears to be a lovely young woman," Lucius contradicted. "I can't imagine what there is to not like about her."

Drake mumbled something under his breath.

Lucius raised an eyebrow and sent his grandson a disapproving look. "What was that, young man?"

"She yells," Drake murmured just loud enough to be heard.

"Nonsense," Lucius snapped.

"She does." Drake's eyes roamed around the table pleading with anyone to believe him.

"Do you honestly think we would leave you in the care of a virtual stranger all day and not have someone connected to the family watching over you?" Lucius posed.

Drake's face screwed up in confusion. "What?"

"The servants are watching you every day," Lucius said brusquely. "So I would be very careful about what untruths you allow past your lips."

Draco noticed Ginny sit up a bit straighter at this news. He hadn't told her that the house elves were reporting back to the men of the family every day and were under strict instructions to summon them if something untoward was going on at home, most especially with the twins.

"She does yell," Drake tried again.

Lucius leaned over the table, unmindful of the generous slice of apple pie that had just been placed in front of him, and pinned his grandson with a look that could have shriveled the little wizard's fibbing tongue to resemble an Abyssinian Shrivelfig. "Do _not_ lie to me," he snarled.

Drake's eyes dropped to his plate and he fell silent. He wasn't foolish enough to try his grandfather's patience when he growled like that.

"Lucius, if Drake says—" Ginny started.

"If you'll excuse me for interrupting, Ginevra." Lucius paused for a moment to allow her refuse him. "From all reports, the only thing Miss Sheehan could possibly be accused of is being far too nice."

"I selected her because she was nice," Ginny said defensively.

"Perhaps, but she is being paid to do a job, and I don't feel she is conducting herself in a professional manner."

Ginny's eyes opened wide at the statement. "How so?"

"Tutors are employed to prepare children for their formal education and, from all reports, Miss Sheehan is more concerned with being a friend to the children."

"Have you seen this for yourself?" Ginny inquired calmly.

"It has been reported to me on a daily basis," Lucius answered curtly.

"So you're taking the word of your _spies_ over that of your grandson?" Ginny persisted, making the label sound like a profanity.

"My _spies_, as you so eloquently describe them, have nothing to gain by lying to me," Lucius responded.

"Perhaps not, but they are _your_ spies, so they might just be telling you what you want to hear," Ginny posed thoughtfully. "Perhaps there's something to be gained by giving you that."

"I doubt that the—"

"This conversation is going nowhere fast," Draco interrupted harshly, sending his father a warning glance at the same time. "Despite what anyone thinks of Miss Sheehan, the twins will continue their education _without_ complaints."

Drake's eyes, which had been watching the exchange between his mother and grandfather, snapped to his father's face and then dropped, disappointedly, to his lap. There would be no reprieve from the boredom.

"I couldn't agree more," Lucius concurred.

Ginny smiled tightly at her father-in-law. She knew he was only agreeing with Draco on principal, because he'd made his disapproval of her choice known before the tutor had even arrived.

"Eat up, children," Narcissa instructed lightly.

Silence reigned and the sound of cutlery on fine china filled the room. The palpable tension surrounding the family slowly dissipated as they concentrated on the generous portions of apple pie in front of them. Draco kept a close eye on the expressions of his wife and father, expecting either of them to give up the pretense of polite dinnertime behavior at any second and explode.

It wasn't until Ginny was ushering the twins out of the dining room and up to their bathrooms that Draco relaxed a little. Left with his parents for the time being he didn't have to worry about an outburst from either of the volatile parties, though he'd most likely have to deal with his father's disapproval of his wife's opinionated behavior.

"You might consider doing—"

"Something about her opinion?" Draco inserted venomously.

"I was going to suggest you talk to her and make her see that Miss Sheehan isn't fulfilling her duties as a tutor," Lucius responded evenly.

"Father, as long as Ginny is happy with the woman's performance, she will remain. She is well qualified for the position, despite the fact that she has a different approach to what you consider appropriate," Draco retorted.

"I am merely concerned with the effect she will inevitably have upon the twins. Drake is already—"

"The only problem Drake has with her is that he's not allowed to play whenever he wants. A problem that would exist no matter who we appointed," Draco pointed out firmly.

"It is not about Drake feeling that way, but more about how the appointed tutor deals with the situation," Lucius reminded him.

"I will not tolerate some tyrant—"

"I am not suggesting a tyrant," Lucius cut in smoothly. "I was merely stating that a firmer hand might be required, so Drake benefits from his early education."

"He will benefit," Draco replied in a tone that brokered no argument.

"You take offense to my—"

"Interfering?" Draco offered with a sneer.

"Experienced opinion," Lucius clarified.

"Ah, but you become argumentative when anyone disagrees with your 'experienced opinion'," Draco mentioned cleverly.

"There is nothing wrong with healthy debate."

"Except when it's not welcome," Draco stated coldly.

"Enough," Narcissa uttered in barely more than a whisper as Lucius opened his mouth to respond. "Both of you are behaving in a deplorable manner."

"We are merely discussing an issue, dearest," Lucius offered.

"Polite arguing is still arguing," Narcissa pointed out firmly. "It is time you both agreed to disagree on certain issues."

Lucius' hand came up to rest on his wife's. "Dearest, we are not about—"

"I wish to return to our wing," Narcissa snapped as she stole her hand away.

Draco drew his lips together in a tight line to keep from laughing. His father was in trouble and was going to have a hell of a night if he didn't make amends. Not that he wasn't in trouble himself, but his mother was going to take her fury back to their part of the manor, so he would be relieved of any responsibility until she'd had time to vent and calm down a little.

"Of course, my love," Lucius muttered as he stood up.

"You can wipe that smug look off your face, Draco," Narcissa growled. "Neither of you have won, and I am bored with hearing your absurd arguments."

"Sorry, Mother," Draco mumbled. Even the sting of chastisement couldn't remove the elation of knowing his father would be dealing with his mother this evening, while he was tucked up in bed with his own loving wife.

"Wish the children sweet dreams for me," Narcissa instructed as she waited for Draco to bid her good evening.

"I will," Draco promised. He placed a chaste kiss on her cheek and embraced her briefly. "Good night, Mother."

"Draco," Lucius intoned civilly.

"Father," Draco responded amusedly. "Do have a _pleasant_ evening."

Lucius' lip curled, as if he was going to snarl, but he emitted no noise.

Draco chuckled to himself as he left the dining room after his parents. His father would pay him back for that remark, but at the moment he didn't much care. He debated whether he should go up and help Ginny with the twins, but decided to wait in their family parlor. A few minutes to collect his thoughts was much needed at this point.

He poured himself a Firewhisky from the sidebar and sunk into the corner of the couch. The events of the day flowed through his mind like a horror story. What started out to be any other day had quickly developed into a disaster. Draco knew it truly wasn't anything that he said or did that saved the situation, but more his wife's inability to control her emotions and her need to be comforted at that time that saved the situation from becoming a complete nightmare.

Then there was Drake. He was the last person who needed to be told how perceptive the little boy was; after all, he was a clone of himself, and he used to get the same way whenever his mother was inexplicably missing. Draco could only hope that there wouldn't be a repeat, because holding his temper in situations like that was a real challenge, though only because his credibility was brought into question.

"I want a story, Daddy!" Angel demanded as she ran into the parlor, clad in her pajamas.

"Go and get—" Draco began as his thoughts were brought abruptly back to the present.

"Angel, what did I say?" Ginny questioned sternly.

"But—"

Ginny's gaze hardened in her daughter's direction, obviously conveying something she had told her earlier.

A pout formed on the little witch's mouth and her eyes filled with tears.

"Don't start that," Ginny commanded. "You're going to bed _without_ an argument."

Angel sniffed loudly. "Goodnight, Daddy."

"Goodnight, Princess," Draco whispered before he kissed her forehead.

"Goodnight, Daddy," Drake said as he wandered over.

"Goodnight, mate." Draco embraced his son and kissed his forehead.

"Upstairs," Ginny ordered.

"Love, do you want me to tuck them in?" Draco offered as Ginny turned to follow the twins.

"Oh yes, I can just see that happening without a story or quick game of Quidditch," Ginny returned smartly. "I won't be long."

"Nothing wrong with a story before bed," Draco mumbled to himself. In his opinion, it was far better than knowing his daughter was most likely going to cry herself to sleep.

It was obvious to anyone that they were tired, but he preferred to send them to bed happy, and if it meant reading a couple of pages of a book, then that was what he'd do. Ginny, on the other hand, was a bit stronger when it came to sending them to bed. Nights like tonight were becoming more common, as their lessons took a toll on their energy levels.

"What are you thinking about?" Ginny asked as she re-entered the parlor.

"Nothing," Draco replied as innocently as he could. Somehow he didn't think pointing out that he thought it was incredibly cruel to send the twins off to bed without a story was going to help him have a better evening than his father.

He motioned for her to join him on the couch, and then gently guided her to lean back against his chest. A contented sigh escaped him as he pressed his lips to her head.

"Did the twins go to bed okay?"

"They're already asleep."

Draco nodded as his hands roamed over the bulge of her midsection. Ginny did know them so much better than he did. His thoughts turned to the little person his wife was guarding within. Despite his earlier worries about whether she'd have enough time left for him, he couldn't stop the flutter of excitement that made his stomach feel like it was full of Snitches.

Ginny's hand drifted up to rest on top of one of his and gently guided it to the side of her stomach. It wasn't unusual for her to subtly change the position of his hands on her body when she was feeling uncomfortable, so Draco didn't think anything of the silent demand.

All of a sudden there was an odd movement against his hand.

"Was that—" Draco started in a whisper, but fell silent when another movement beneath his hand caused him to stop.

"Yes," Ginny replied softly. "Poppet is wide awake."

A silly grin spread across Draco's face. Ginny had been trying to get him to feel their baby kicking for weeks, but every time he put his hand near her the baby stopped moving. If she hadn't kept assuring him that it was perfectly normal, he would have been close to developing a complex.

"We have a Beater," Draco murmured in awe, as his hands followed the baby's sharp kicks and nudges.

"We do," Ginny agreed, happy that Draco had finally been able to share this with her.

After fifteen minutes of awe-inspiring movement and chatter the movement began to slow down. Draco sighed, feeling a little disappointed that the experience was coming to an end.

Ginny heard her husband exhale and knew he was dissatisfied, so she reached over and gave her belly a poke. Her reward or punishment for utilizing such a tactic was a sharp kick to Draco's lingering hand.

"Wow! Did you feel that?" Draco exclaimed excitedly.

Ginny laughed lightly. "Yes, I did feel that."

"It's—I just…" Draco trailed off, unable to find words powerful enough to convey his feelings.

"I know," Ginny whispered.

"Did the twins—"

"Yes, they used to keep me awake at night." A melancholy smile touched Ginny's lips. "They were so active that once they got started they'd move for hours."

"I wish I could have shared that with you."

"I'm sorry," Ginny choked out as her eyes filled with tears.

"Ginny?" Draco tried to look at her face to confirm what he suspected, but found it unnecessary when he heard her sniff miserably. "Hey, don't cry. What's done is done, and all that matters is that we're together now."

"I should have—I took that—"

"Shh, it doesn't matter now," Draco crooned. "I just want to enjoy this baby and watching you grow as it does."

He allowed her to weep for a few minutes, knowing it was useless to try to get her to stop. At least while she was busy feeling guilty he had time to kick his own arse thoroughly for upsetting her. Sometimes things just slipped out, and then he had to deal with them. Draco was thankful that her tears didn't escalate beyond almost silent sobbing. He held her gently and whispered nonsensical things in her ear until she stopped.

"I think it's time I tucked you and Poppet into bed," Draco muttered when she appeared to have calmed down.

Ginny shook her head a little.

"A nice cup of tea while we cuddle in bed sounds perfect right about now," Draco continued, ignoring her refusal.

"I don't want to go to bed," Ginny said with a little irritation in her tone.

"All right," Draco said slowly, giving himself time to think of something else. "How about a nice relaxing bath?"

Ginny half shrugged, not committing either way.

"I'll scrub your back," Draco offered, his voice deliberately turning husky. "I'll even do your front."

"I wouldn't want to put you out or anything."

Draco grinned as his wife's cheeky response signaled a lighter mood. "It's no trouble, really."

"I'll bet," Ginny replied with mock sarcasm.

"Let's go and get you in that bath, and afterwards we can talk about the first thing that pops up," Draco murmured in her ear.

"I knew you had other ideas."

"When have I not?" Draco quirked his eyebrows audaciously, even though she couldn't see his face.

Ginny shook her head as she sat forward. She wasn't about to complain about his mind being in the bedroom after the day they'd had, because she felt the need for some extra loving tonight.

By the time she was ensconced in their massive bath, Ginny was feeling relatively drowsy. Draco had been attentive to the point that he undressed her. For the moment, he'd left her alone just to soak in the peace and relax, but she was under no illusion that he'd be away for long. She allowed her eyes to slip closed for the time being and just enjoyed the peace. The warm water felt wonderful against her skin and it was relaxing her body in a way that only a bath was capable.

A frown creased her forehead as she heard Draco come back into the room and start rummaging through cupboards. "What are you looking for?" Ginny asked without bothering to open her eyes.

"I thought Pansy gave you a nice sponge thing for your birthday," Draco answered, while he searched the cupboard.

"She did," Ginny muttered. "It's hanging in my shower."

She heard him mumble something and walk in the direction of her shower stall. The next thing she knew her heart was racing as she jerked forward when something touched her shoulder.

"I'm sorry, love," Draco blurted. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's okay. I must have drifted off or something."

While Ginny concentrated on breathing slowly and evenly, Draco started to run the sponge over her back. His touch was heavenly and went a long way to assisting her to relax again.

Once she'd regained her former composure, her body melted under his touch, but at the same time it was set alive with tingles radiating from her core. She was caught between feeling ultimately relaxed and incredibly aroused. There was only one thing she could do, given the circumstances: let her body take the course it naturally wanted to follow.

By the time the sponge ran over her shoulders to dip low on her chest, Ginny's nipples were hardened pebbles. The spontaneous moan that forced its way from her throat sent a clear message to anyone within earshot as to how she was feeling.

Draco smirked. There was no hiding how she was feeling these days. He had a choice to make: indulge her wanton demeanor or tease her for a while?

The latter was far more appealing, in his opinion. With no sign that he'd even heard her, he continued his innocent ministrations.

As his hand roamed lower he deliberately stayed away from her breasts, going above them, between them and under them, but never over them. At one point he thought he heard her growl lowly in frustration, but he couldn't acknowledge her if he wanted to keep going with his preferred option.

When he reached the bulge of her tummy, Draco spent a lot of time just circling the area, enjoying the response he was receiving from the baby for the attention he was paying.

"Does that feel nice, Poppet?" Draco whispered after receiving a rather forceful pressure against his hand. "We've got to make sure you're all clean before tucking you into bed."

Ginny cracked an eye open, so she could watch Draco. Her licentious feelings faded the moment she saw him. His head was close to her belly and his eyes held a spark that she'd never seen before. He was rambling on to the baby, holding a one sided conversation that was composed of utter nonsense. At that moment she couldn't have loved her husband more.

"Do you know what we've got to do?" Draco posed quietly to his unborn child. "We've got to look after Mummy, so she can look after you."

A soft smile crept its way across Ginny's mouth as she continued to watch her husband bond with their unborn child. For the most part, she couldn't tell anyone what his little conversation involved, because the words didn't really matter to her at the time. It was merely the fact that he was paying the infant some attention that had her heart bursting with emotions. Even when he'd moved the sponge down her legs, Draco kept up his little discussion with the baby, explaining what he was doing and why; and constantly asking if it felt good to have Mummy relaxed.

He'd completely avoided the peak of her thighs on the trip down her legs, so when he brushed the sponge between her legs on the way back up she was pleasantly surprised. A rush of blood to the area reminded her that she'd been feeling rather heated before he'd began his little rhetoric with their baby. However, his movements were anything but arousing. It was almost as if he were truly intent on ensuring she was clean.

"Do you want to get out now or would you like to soak for a little longer?"

Ginny opened her eyes and stared at her husband, feeling a little confused. Never before had they ended such a bath without making love or heading for the bed with the mutual understanding that they were going to make love. She hoped he wasn't going to go noble on her now, because just the thought was enough to make her want to scream. "Umm— I might stay here for a bit," she uttered, feeling the need for a little privacy to sort her thoughts out.

"All right." Draco smiled as he got to his feet. "I might have quick shower."

Ginny smiled tightly and nodded. It wasn't exactly the privacy she was hoping for, but to refuse him access to the bathroom now would alert him to a problem, and she didn't think she wanted to share this with him at the moment.

When he moved away, Ginny allowed her eyes to slip closed again. She could hear him shedding his clothes, and then turning the water on in his stall. After a minute or so an odd sound started to assault her ears. So as not to alert him, Ginny sat forward very carefully and observed her husband for a while.

The sound turned out to be Draco humming to himself, which in of itself was strange. As his hands massaged his scalp, Ginny couldn't quite get over how happy he looked. Every fiber in his being appeared to be grinning and his aura seemed to glow with joy.

She rested back in the bath as he rinsed his hair. A sense of peace and security washing over her as what she'd seen sank in. If ever she'd had a moments doubt about her marriage or the baby it was most definitely gone now.

A short time later Draco left the bathroom, finally giving her the privacy she needed. Her thoughts had taken a different turn and rather than concentrating on his silent refusal to touch her erotically, she found herself pondering how much stronger their relationship felt. There was little doubt in her mind that she'd seen him with all his guards down and she knew it wasn't often that Draco allowed that to happen, even when it was just the two of them, so she had received some very privileged information. All of a sudden, she had a compulsion to be with him. Within minutes she'd abandoned the warm bath water, dried herself carelessly and left the bathroom in search of her husband.

* * *

Draco had left the bathroom still a little wet, but he had a feeling that his wife needed a few moments alone. There was a bit of a chill in the air outside, but inside their suite was comfortable, so he dressed only in a pair of pajama bottoms. He knew he might have need for the shirt later, but for now he left it in his dressing room.

With Ginny still in the bath, he settled himself before the hearth and summoned a book from his nightstand. Quiet nights like this would have been considered boring a year ago, but now he rather enjoyed the peace. He became engrossed in his book quickly and was only torn from its pages when the bathroom door opened.

When he turned to find his wife standing half way across the room, looking like she'd failed to dry herself properly, he wondered exactly what was going on, but something in her eyes halted his obvious question. "Do you feel better, love?"

"Yes," she answered simply.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" Draco inquired, keeping up the line of normal conversation in lieu of demanding what was wrong.

"Maybe later."

"It's getting a bit late to be saving something for later."

"Then I won't have one."

"All right," Draco answered slowly. There was definitely something amiss, but he couldn't put his finger on it. "Do you want to get dressed?"

She shook her head.

As her towel hit the floor his mouth went dry. A few things were going through his head, but none were staying long enough for him to acknowledge what the thought was. While he was trying to get his brain to engage again she walked over to him, took his book from his hands and straddled his legs. He didn't actually know if his brain had started functioning again or whether instinct had taken over, but he didn't really care, because he knew exactly what his wife wanted without doubt…

* * *

It took him a little while to get to his feet, but once there it was only a minute or so before they were both snuggled up in their huge bed. He spooned against her back with one of his hands spread protectively over his unborn child. Ginny's breathing evened out after only a few minutes of warm cuddling and before long she'd succumbed to the call of slumber.

Draco remained awake for a while, contemplating the day that had passed them. It had most definitely been the day from hell at some points, but at least it had finished on a good note. He was just starting to drift off when a gentle movement under his hand brought a smile to his face, but it didn't stay long as guilt attacked him. He'd forgotten all about his unborn child as he fucked his wife thoroughly. What did the baby feel? His thoughts were going down dangerous paths and Draco fought to shut them off, lest he be shamed into a life of celibacy. Another movement under his hand brought the smile back to his face. The baby was moving and, therefore, it was fine. Besides, if he hurt the baby, then he'd have to hurt Ginny and she certainly wasn't complaining — well, at least she stopped when he let her have her way.

The erratic movements under his hand eventually began to fade to the point where they were barely noticeable anymore. It was then that Draco relaxed fully and thoughts that were only half developed were left as they were as sleep claimed him.

* * *

Ginny entered Malfoy Holdings and strolled casually over to the lifts. There were several people waiting to go to the upper levels of the building, so she hung back, standing just behind them. When the doors to the lift slid open everyone moved forward, turning around as they entered the lift to look into the foyer. With a warm smile directed at the employees, she entered the lift, but within seconds found herself the only occupant of the small moving room. Some had excused themselves with barely intelligible excuses of having forgotten something and others had simply escaped as fast as they possible could, without breaking into a run. A frown creased her brow as she watched the people retreat. Thoughts of how odd it seemed that everyone had suddenly disembarked crossed her mind, but she didn't linger over them. Instead, Ginny reached out and pushed the button for the topmost floor, where the executive offices were located.

The lift made several stops on its way to the top floor, but no one actually joined Ginny in the lift. Some made mumbled excuses, and others just turned and walked away from the open doors the moment they spied her. When she reached the top floor Ginny stepped out and began the journey down the long corridor. The further she walked the slower her pace became. There was definitely something wrong, if the employees' reactions were anything to go by. Not one to be rude, Ginny had smiled and greeted each person she'd come across, but for the most part they'd run away from her with expressions of terror on their faces. By the time she'd reached Draco's outer office she was beginning to get a complex. Were they running from her? Was Draco in a bad mood, or perhaps Lucius?

"Mrs. Malfoy," the secretary greeted her nervously. "Mr. Malfoy is expecting you."

"Yes, he should be," Ginny answered vaguely. The expression and demeanor of the other woman was anything but her usual friendly manner.

"You can go straight in," the woman stated hurriedly.

"Thank you," Ginny uttered as she walked over to the double doors guarding her husband's private office.

"Ginny love." Draco greeted her with a bright smile as he stood up and moved around his enormous desk. "Is everything all right?" he asked upon examining her expression.

Ginny closed the door behind her and allowed Draco to kiss her cheek. "You tell me."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Draco inquired cautiously.

"Everyone seems to be running away from me in horror," Ginny stated. "I didn't grow a second head, did I?"

"Oh—I'm sure— they're just busy," Draco stammered. "Father's been on the warpath a bit today," he added quickly.

"Draco?" Ginny took a step away from him, so she could see his eyes properly. "What is going on? The truth!"

If the employees had looked uncomfortable when she was in their vicinity, they had nothing on their boss right now. Draco looked as if he wanted to be anywhere but right here talking to her. His tongue flicked out to lick his lips—a sure sign that he was feeling anxious.

"Draco?" Ginny prompted in an uncompromising tone.

"Come and sit down," Draco coaxed.

"I don't want to sit down, Draco. I want to know what's going on."

He expelled a large breath. This wasn't going to be easy, but there was only one way to do it with her ire rising: straightforward. "You rather terrified most of the staff yesterday when you stormed in," he admitted quietly. "They've been twitchy all day."

"You've got to joking?"

"I'm not joking."

Ginny looked around the office, and then at her husband's serious expression. She felt her lips starting to twitch, and she tried to sober herself, but it was impossible. The idea that she terrified so many people by walking through the office in search of her husband was ludicrous. A bubble of laughter escaped, despite her best efforts not to laugh, and then she couldn't stop.

Draco guided his wife over to the couch and assisted her to sit down before she fell over. At the moment she was almost doubled over with hilarity, though how she found the situation amusing was quite beyond him. This morning had been hell on earth at the office with the staff more concerned with gossiping and avoiding him than actually doing what they were paid to do. He could have hexed his secretary clear into next week for letting others know that Ginny was coming in today.

"Is something amusing?" Lucius inquired as he strode into the office unannounced.

Ginny took a few deep breaths and fought to bring herself under control. She could feel her bladder complaining, but there was no way she was going to attempt to walk across the office while still laughing that hard. "Bathroom," she mumbled as she struggled to stand up.

Draco immediately assisted his wife to her feet. He'd learned that if she needed use the lavatory, she needed to use it right away, not in five minutes or when she finally managed to get out of the chair she was sitting in.

As the bathroom door closed behind her, Draco looked at his father. "Ginny seems to think that the staff being afraid of her is somewhat funny."

"I watched her walk down the corridor." Lucius smirked coldly. "The staff were scattering like mice in the face of a hungry cat."

"Someone should have alerted me," Draco growled. He had no idea it had been that bad. No wonder Ginny had picked up on the tension in the building.

"Whatever for? Ginevra was certainly in no danger, though I think there may be a few bruises floating around the office now." Lucius chuckled at his son's confused expression. "People don't always look where they're walking when they're trying to run away."

Draco rolled his eyes. Of course, his father would find something like this hilarious.

"Ah, Ginevra, you must share your secret," Lucius said as Ginny emerged from Draco's private bathroom.

Ginny frowned in confusion. "Secret?"

"Yes, the secret to how you make people scatter at the mere sight of you," Lucius expounded.

"Oh." Ginny colored furiously. "Yesterday—I—I didn't mean—"

Lucius chuckled at his daughter-in-law's stammered explanation. "If only I held that power."

Ginny recovered quickly, as soon as she saw that her father-in-law was as amused by the situation as she was. "I don't know that you'll ever hold that power, Lucius. After all, you'll never be livid _and_ pregnant at the same time."

"Such a shame," Lucius concluded dispiritedly.

"If you two sadists have finished enjoying the torture of our staff, perhaps we can go to lunch?" Draco suggested. "Father, would you care to join us?"

"Thank you for the offer, but I have a business luncheon to attend," Lucius responded politely. "That's why I came to see you. I would like you to look this proposal over before I leave."

Draco's eyes flicked to his wife to gauge her reaction to the suggestion that they may be held up.

"Go on," Ginny said. "I'm not in the mood for a restaurant meal anyway."

Before accepting the file his father held, Draco smiled and winked at his wife.

Lucius and Draco walked back to the desk, where Draco sat down and opened the file.

Ginny watched her husband's expression become serious as his eyes roamed over the proposal. She could hear them discussing the file, but they may as well how been conversing in a foreign language for all she understood. Rather than worry about what they were saying, Ginny sat back and just observed them working together.

Lucius was standing beside his son, leaning over him to point something out on the parchments in front of Draco. They wore identical expressions and Ginny could sense there was a great deal of respect between the two men. She wished she could capture this moment forever, so she could show them when they were arguing about something.

All of a sudden her eyes welled up and her heart felt like it was going to burst with raw emotion.

"I'll see you this evening," Lucius intoned as he moved to the door with his file. "Ginevra, have a lovely—"

As Ginny glanced up at her father-in-law a fat tear rolled down her cheek.

"Draco," Lucius hissed, inclining his head in the direction of the crying witch on the couch before exiting the office as quickly as his legs could carry him.

"Hey, Ginny, what's this about?" Draco asked quickly as he moved across his office to her side.

She quickly wiped the moisture from her cheeks, but it was soon replaced as her tears continued to flow silently. "It's nothing," she tried to assure him.

"Nothing doesn't make you cry," Draco countered gently. "Tell me what's wrong."

"I was just watching you work with your father," Ginny confessed unevenly.

Draco bit back the urge to laugh. "We do that every day. It's not that scary, is it?"

"No… It's… it's beautiful," Ginny choked out.

He couldn't help but laugh at his wife's statement. "Love, I hardly think the image of Father and I working could be described that way. Dead boring perhaps, or even terrifying at times, but never beautiful."

"It was," Ginny protested. "I wish you could stand back and watch yourselves."

"Yes— well— Why don't you go and wash your face, and we'll go to lunch?" Draco suggested cautiously.

As Ginny left him to go to the bathroom, he sunk back into the soft folds of the couch and congratulated himself for stemming that flow of tears quickly. He'd learned that it was safer not to argue over her perception of things at the moment, because to do so often meant that angry or sad tears would join the happy tears, and then he'd really be in trouble.

Over the course of the last few weeks he'd met what he thought was the full range of womanly tears. To curb his initial panic he'd done the only thing he could think of at the time: invited Bill to lunch. When his brother-in-law recovered from his amusement, he assured Draco that Ginny's wild mood swings and tears were all perfectly normal, and all he had to do was devise some ways of dealing with her, without making the situation worse. He'd warned him about evolving tears in a grave tone; this type started as one emotion and changed with the smallest wrong move from him. Bill impressed upon him that he wanted to avoid this type whenever possible, because once they started there was no telling when they would stop or how long he would earn himself on the couch. This was mostly caused by the fact that you didn't quite know what you were dealing with at any given time, so saying or doing the wrong thing was easier than falling off a broomstick, and if you managed to work out what sort of waterworks you were coping with it would change with the fall of the next tear.

As the bathroom door opened Draco plastered a cheery smile on his face. He'd also discovered that his demeanor had a profound effect on Ginny. "Ready for lunch, love?"

"I am feeling a bit hungry now."

"Good." Draco rose and readied himself to leave quickly.

On the way out, Draco spoke briefly with his secretary and then he escorted Ginny from the building. It was blatantly obvious that his wife's presence disturbed the employees greatly. Despite the fact that it led to a counter-productive atmosphere, he did find it funny. They couldn't get out of her line of vision quick enough. Not that he showed his amusement inside the building, but as they stepped onto the street he couldn't contain his laughter any longer.

"It's not funny," Ginny protested.

"Yes, it is," Draco countered. "It's hilarious, and don't you pretend that the sight of all the little plebeians scattering before you doesn't thrill your evil side."

"Well…" Ginny's mouth began to twitch.

Draco leaned down, slipping his arm around her waist, and whispered in her ear, "It's bloody hilarious."

A small giggle escaped the redhead, and she couldn't deny that it was just as funny the second time around.

After lunch in a small café, they went straight to the Midwitch's office. Draco was a little irritated when they were told the Midwitch was behind schedule and they'd have to wait a while, but Ginny accepted the information without even raising an eyebrow, as if it was quite normal.

Draco was the only male in the crowded waiting room. Everywhere he looked his eyes fell on an expectant witch. Some hardly had a bump and others looked as if they were well overdue, in his uneducated opinion. Each time one of them met his eyes with a smile he felt infinitely more uncomfortable and averted his gaze immediately. In the end, the only safe place he could look was at his hands in his lap.

"Is everything all right?" Ginny whispered, noticing her husband's discomfiture.

"They're _all_ pregnant," Draco hissed.

Ginny muffled a giggle behind her hand. "Well, you are sitting in a Midwitch's office."

Draco sent a pained look in his wife's direction, but didn't bother to respond. She wouldn't understand, even if he were to explain why this situation made him uncomfortable — not that he could really explain, because he didn't understand himself. He continued to watch his hands, only occasionally glancing up at the rest of the small room when there was movement. At one point Ginny reached forward and took a magazine from the table in front of them. Draco snatched the publication out of her hands without a word and tossed it back onto the table.

"If you want to read, bring a book from home," he whispered harshly. There was no way he was going to have a repeat of the day before, and he really had no idea how many offensive articles about him may have appeared in various magazines over the years, so it wasn't worth chancing her coming across another article in the dated publications.

Ginny looked surprised, but one glance at Draco's uncompromising expression silenced her protest. She sighed heavily and went back to twiddling her thumbs.

One by one the women were called in to see the Midwitch, but Draco noticed that even more were going through a second door and then returning to their seats.

"What's so interesting through there?" Draco's head nodded in the direction of the often-used door.

"Lavatory," Ginny whispered.

Draco nodded and smiled understandingly. It was another of those things that he'd never given any thought to, but had learned over the last few months: pregnant women went to the bathroom _a lot_.

He'd no sooner discovered the location of the bathroom than Ginny announced, discreetly, that she needed to use the room. Within seconds of her leaving her seat, Draco's decided he, too, could do with a visit to the 'little wizard's room'.

The corridor beyond the door had several other doors leading off, but only one was signposted as a bathroom.

"Ginny," Draco hissed just before his wife disappeared into what he thought was the ladies toilet. "Where's the men's room?"

"There isn't one." She almost laughed at his pained expression. "This one is for everyone's use."

"Men and women together?"

"It's not like we can see your strange bathroom rituals," Ginny said with amusement dancing in her eyes. "There are cubicles."

Draco stood staring at the vacant space his wife had been standing in for a few moments. There was no doubt that he needed to relieve himself for personal comfort and given that he had no idea how long they'd have to wait there really wasn't a choice in the matter. He glanced up and down the corridor furtively and then entered the lavatory.

Behind the door was a large room with six basins and six cubicles. Large mirrors covered the wall above the basins and it was while Draco was marveling at this that a heavily pregnant woman walked out of one of the stalls. He quickly turned and disappeared inside an empty stall. The seat was down, of course, so he rectified the situation and then unzipped his trousers. Another toilet flushed somewhere down the line and after a second or so of silence the conversation he never wanted to hear began.

"That feels so much better," a woman's voice relayed.

"You know it won't last long," another woman reminded.

"An hour of relief is better than nothing."

"Only an hour?"

"I don't dare hang on any longer."

"Why?"

"I was in the Apothecary last week, and I could feel the need to go, but I wanted to pay for everything first."

A woman groaned. "How did it happen?"

"I sneezed."

"Oh no, you poor thing."

Draco frowned inside the cubicle. _What was so bad about sneezing in the Apothecary?_ The toilet right next to him flushed and he heard the door swing open.

"I had that happen in my last pregnancy," Ginny's voice added to the conversation. "I was in Flourish and Blotts, and the dust got up my nose. You should have seen the puddle."

_Puddle?_ Draco's frown deepened.

"It's just so embarrassing."

"I hate trying to work out what to do afterwards."

"Do you make an attempt to mop up or alert someone?"

"Have you ever tried explaining it to some young shop assistant?"

"Or worse: an old man?" Ginny asked.

The three women laughed together.

Inside the stall Draco was still standing with his member poised to do the job he'd originally come in here for. He was completely baffled about what the women were on about and, although a little curious, he was almost positive that he didn't really want to know; something told him that, whatever it was, it came under the banner of _Sacred Witch's Business_, and he had no business, as a wizard, listening to them.

Now that he'd come to that conclusion he felt trapped. There was no way he wanted to alert them to his presence. He would have to remain silent until they all returned to the waiting room. It was a good, simple plan, except for the fact that his bladder had grown exceptionally uncomfortable and the cool air on his dick wasn't helping matters either. With the only other option exposing himself, Draco grit his teeth, held his breath and listened carefully. All he wanted was for them to leave, but it seemed as though they'd settled in for the afternoon. At least he now knew why women went to the bathroom in packs and why they took so long — if they went alone they'd have no one to gossip with.

Draco tried not to listen to the actual conversation they were having; his poor ears and vulnerable male sensibilities had been assaulted quite enough for one day, not to mention he didn't need to be confused any further. The women nattered on for another five minutes, and then Draco heard the door open. He prayed to whomever was listening that another woman wasn't about to join the meeting. Instead of increased chatter, the lavatory fell silent. Fear of missing his chance to escape before he overheard anything else, Draco relieved himself quickly, hurried through washing his hands, and then left the bathroom before anyone else could arrive.

Before he entered the waiting room, Draco took a moment to compose himself. To burst into the crowded room, with what he was sure was a horrified expression on his face, would only cause people to question where he'd been. A deep breath and a few calming thoughts later, he strolled as casually into the room as he could. Some of the women looked up, most notably his own wife.

"Where have you been?" Ginny asked.

"Lavatory," Draco whispered.

"All that time? Are you feeling okay?" Concern colored her tone as she reached to feel his forehead.

Draco captured her hand before it made contact. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"We could ask—"

"Mrs. Malfoy, would you like to go through now?" the receptionist asked over the top of all the conversations.

"It's about time," Draco muttered under his breath as he rose from his chair.

Ginny grabbed his arm before he could take a full step. "Draco, not a word about waiting."

Draco opened his mouth to tell her that they shouldn't have to wait, but it snapped shut when he saw her expression. He wouldn't say anything to upset her now, but that didn't mean he couldn't complain later, from the privacy of his own office. With ideas of what he'd like to say to the Midwitch still roaming through his mind he followed Ginny into the Midwitch's office.

"Ginny, lovely to see you," the Midwitch greeted her warmly. "And you must be Draco."

"Yes, pleased to meet you," Draco intoned politely.

The so-called expert, who was going to help his wife deliver their child into this world, was not at all what he expected. She was very young, perhaps around their age or just a little older. Her smile was bright and confident, and her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. This Midwitch was hardly old enough to have any experience and it worried him.

"It's always wonderful to meet the father before the birth." The woman smiled at him. "It gives me an idea of what we'll be dealing with on the big day."

Draco's eyes widened a little. _Dealing with?_ "I assure you, Healer—"

"Call me Ellen."

"Ellen, I assure you—"

"Have you done this before, Draco?" Ellen asked as she sat behind her desk.

"Err—no."

"Well, let's not make any grand statements that will come back to haunt us then," the Midwitch instructed with a soft smile. "I've seen the toughest men brought to their knees by the sight of their wife giving birth."

Ginny cleared her throat lightly, which garnered his attention. After receiving a meaningful look from her, Draco sat down and kept his mouth shut.

"Right, let's get on with this, shall we?" Ellen opened the file in front of her, and then looked at Ginny. "You ran out on us yesterday?"

"Sorry about that," Ginny started. "I—"

"My wife discovered a rather vile article in a publication she picked up in your waiting room," Draco cut in abruptly.

"My receptionist said you were clearly upset about something," Ellen muttered.

"That's an understatement," Draco told her. "I don't appreciate my wife being upset in that manner."

Ginny spun in her chair. "Draco!"

"It's all right, Ginny," Ellen assured her. "Draco, I have no idea what sort of reading material is in the waiting room. Patients leave magazines for us all the time, and my receptionist simply sees to it that there are enough in the waiting room for my patients to peruse while they wait. I am truly sorry that something offended Ginny and, of course, I'm concerned for her health, but I don't exactly control what's out there."

"I'm fine now," Ginny stated, cutting Draco off before he could respond again.

"You should have waited to see me," Ellen responded sternly.

"I wasn't in a good frame of mind," Ginny admitted.

"Well, let's see how you're doing today," Ellen said, closing the subject. "Just pop yourself up on the table."

Draco, though smarting from having his complaint dismissed so easily, watched with interest as the Midwitch examined Ginny. She measured her now ample belly and placed an odd shaped hearing-horn against her skin and listened for a while before proclaiming all was well.

"How are you feeling in yourself? Apart from yesterday afternoon, that is," Ellen inquired.

"Fine," Ginny answered simply.

Unable to help himself, but not wanting to butt in again and be dismissed, Draco didn't quite suppress the odd noise that crawled up his throat.

"You disagree, Draco?" Ellen posed.

Without even glancing at Ginny, Draco quickly ran through his concerns. "She weeps at nothing, she's often tired and she's constantly running to the bathroom."

Ellen smiled somewhat amusedly. "Is that all?"

"Yes, I think so," Draco answered.

"Then you have nothing to worry about," Ellen guaranteed him. "That's all perfectly normal."

"What about mood swings?" Draco questioned.

"Like?"

"One minute she's fine, then she's furious, then she's crying again, and then she's… well, she's very… _friendly_."

"Normal."

A pained expression crossed Draco's face.

"I'm sorry, Draco, you're going to have to suffer along with all the other expectant fathers out there. Nothing you've described is unusual, so don't worry yourself over it." Ellen turned to Ginny. "Have you had any cravings yet?"

Ginny shrugged. "Not yet."

"Wait until you're getting up in the middle of the night to get her ice cream and pickles," Ellen warned Draco with a chuckle.

"House elves," Draco muttered under his breath.

The Midwitch laughed lightly as she closed her file after scribbling some notes. "Right, I'll see you in four weeks and not a day later."

"I'll make an appointment on the way out," Ginny promised.

"If you have any problems in between don't hesitate to contact me, and that goes for you too, Draco," Ellen said.

"Thank you," Draco responded curtly, as he stood up.

The women bid each other goodbye before Ellen escorted them to the door. On the way out, as promised, Ginny made an appointment for the following month.

Draco inhaled the fresh air as they stepped onto the street. He'd had quite an education this afternoon and now had more questions floating around his head as a result. It wasn't that he wanted all of the questions answered, because there were just some things he didn't want to know or understand when it came to women. Perhaps he'd invite Bill to lunch again, just to clarify some things that he did want to know.

* * *

**_AUTHOR'S NOTE_**

_Thanks to Rainpuddle13 for her fantastic beta skills!_


	16. The Joys of Parenthood

**_Disclaimer_**_: I don't own any of the characters you may recognize from the wonderful world of Harry Potter, they all belong to the revered JK Rowling; I just like to play with them a little._

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

**THE JOYS OF PARENTHOOD**

Draco exhaled slowly as he Apparated into the foyer of his home. It had been a long week, and he was looking forward to the weekend immensely, not withstanding the family obligations that were going to occupy Saturday evening and all day Sunday. He consoled himself that he had twenty-four hours of relaxation before he had to pretend to be having a good time somewhere he wished he didn't have to be.

A small noise garnered his attention as he slipped his cloak from his shoulders. Draco glanced towards the staircase, and it was then that he realized there was no welcoming committee this evening. Drake and Angel always greeted him on his return from the office, but they were nowhere to be seen tonight.

He frowned when he saw his wife sitting on the stairs, close to the balustrade. Something in her expression told him that she was troubled, and there was the fact that she'd made no move to meet him when he arrived. "Ginny? Is everything all right, love?"

She sighed heavily and Draco's stomach knotted uncomfortably. There was obviously a problem. Rather than stand there trying to guess what might be the issue, Draco joined her on the stairs, lowering his tall frame to sit beside her. Before pressing her for details, he slipped his arm around her and placed a soft kiss on her head.

"What happened?" Draco whispered.

"I don't know what to do with him," Ginny mumbled.

"Who?"

"Drake." Ginny shook her head sadly.

Draco's eyes slipped closed, and he silently counted to ten before opening him mouth. If Ginny was this upset by what had happened then it had to be something serious. "What did he do this time?"

"He refused to do anything for Miss Sheehan today."

"That's not all, is it?" Draco questioned.

"He was rude and obnoxious." Ginny sighed again. "I've never seen him that defiant before. Not even your mother could convince him to behave."

Draco groaned. "Please tell me he wasn't rude to Mother."

"Not directly, but he did ignore her."

"Brilliant," Draco hissed. He'd be sure to hear from his father about his son's delinquency now. "Where is he?"

"In his room," Ginny replied flatly. "He's been there for— Well, it's been hours."

Draco nodded despondently. He'd have to deal with this before Lucius had an opportunity to get his hands on his grandson. The thought that there might not be enough left of Drake to deal with if Lucius got to him first hung heavily in his thoughts. "I'll deal with him in my study."

"I have spoken to him," Ginny uttered.

"Successfully?"

"No," she admitted. "He was in no mood to listen."

"I _will_ be successful," Draco said with determination. "What about Miss Sheehan? Is she—"

"She wanted to resign on the spot, but I think I managed to talk her into staying."

Draco blew out a lungful of air. "He was that bad?"

"Yes, he was that bad."

"All right," Draco replied absently, as his mind wandered over punishment options. "Don't worry about a thing. I'll fix everything."

Ginny nodded weakly.

"You're tired," Draco observed.

"A little," Ginny confessed.

"You are confined to our suite for the rest of the night," Draco instructed.

"Draco, I—"

"No arguments," Draco cut her off. "You sound worn-out."

"But dinner and Angel—"

"Why don't you and Angel have dinner in our suite?"

"What about you?"

"First, I'm going to deal with _your_ son. After that, if I still have an appetite, I'll come up and eat in our room as well, and you can keep me company, but I have no idea how long it'll take me to sort Drake out, so you're to go ahead and eat."

"And if you don't?"

"I'll still come up… I'll probably need some comfort by then." Draco smiled at her, despite the worries parading through his mind. "Now, let's get you upstairs, so you can rest."

He stood and offered Ginny his hands. Once she was on her feet he slipped his arm around her waist and escorted her up to their suite. As tempted as he was to simply tuck her into bed, walk around to the other side, climb in next to her, and pretend that there were no naughty little boys in the world who needed chastising, Draco left her in their private sitting room and went directly to his study.

The first thing he did was pour himself a healthy glass of Firewhisky, and then he summoned Millie. After issuing the servant with instructions for the kitchen regarding the serving of the evening meal, orders to let Angel know where to find her mother and, lastly, a demand for his son to join him in his study, Draco sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. He was still at a loss as to exactly what to do about Drake.

If his parents were to be believed, Drake was Draco's twin, and he knew how little he appreciated being told what to do, but that understanding wasn't going to excuse his son. Of course, he also realized that there were very few things he could do to make his son appreciate the gravity of the trouble he had caused.

"Millie!" Draco bellowed into the empty room.

"Master did summon Millie?" the house elf gushed as she appeared before Draco's desk.

"Have you spoken to Drake yet?"

"Millie was about to see Little Master Drake."

"Just hold off for now." Draco rubbed his hands over his face wearily. "Is Miss Sheehan in her quarters?"

"Millie believes Miss Sheehan is where she should be."

"Good," Draco uttered. "Continue with your duties."

The moment Millie had Disapparated Draco rose from his chair and left his office. He needed to speak to the tutor first, and hopefully procure a full and detailed account of Drake's behavior. It wasn't often that he ventured to the servants quarters, but he remembered the way well from his childhood when exploring every room in the manor was an enjoyable pastime. As he reached Miss Sheehan's door the knot in his stomach clenched tightly. Draco took a deep breath and tried his best to ignore the feeling of impending doom that had fallen over him as his hand rapped on the door firmly.

He could hear movement from behind the door and then he was suddenly facing the woman.

"Mr. Malfoy."

"Miss Sheehan, my apologies for intruding on your private time, but I wonder if I could have a few minutes?" Draco asked politely, his tone belying his inner turmoil.

"Of course. Please come in." Claire Sheehan stepped aside to allow Draco entry.

"Thank you." Draco inclined his head respectfully. "This won't take long."

"Was it Drake you wanted to talk about?" Claire inquired as she motioned for her employer to take a seat.

"Yes, unfortunately. Mrs. Malfoy informed me that you had quite a difficult day with him."

"To be perfectly honest, Mr. Malfoy, I've never had a day quite this bad since I began tutoring," Claire admitted.

"I would like a full account of what transpired, if you wouldn't mind. I need to deal with Drake and ensure this doesn't happen again, and I believe I would be more effective if I heard the entire story from your perspective."

"Of course."

Draco sat and listened with increasing horror as the young tutor described her day with the children and Drake's deteriorating behavior. It was clear that the little boy was pushing all the boundaries to the very limit and then beyond whenever he thought to push just a little more. At one point Claire began to tear up and Draco had to move fast to cease the threatened flow of tears — it was one thing he was not capable of dealing with tonight.

By the time he found himself in his study again, Draco was furious. Not only had he found himself apologizing for Drake's behavior, Miss Sheehan had actually delivered him with an ultimatum: if Drake ever conducted himself in a manner similar to today she would resign her post immediately. It wasn't that he blamed her after hearing all the facts, but Draco did not appreciate ultimatums.

"Millie!"

"Master did—"

"Fetch Drake immediately."

"As Master wishes," Millie mumbled.

Draco glanced up when the servant hesitated. "Now!"

Millie sent him one last beseeching look before disappearing.

He sighed heavily and ran his hands through his hair. There was no need to think hard about what Millie was asking of him, but he couldn't let Drake get away with this sort of behavior. If the situation wasn't so serious he might find himself amused that the house elf found it necessary to protect his son in the same way she used to protect him.

Draco thought to the outings they were scheduled to take this weekend. As much as he'd like to ground Drake and leave him home, he didn't think that would work, because there was a good chance the boy would have more fun being left in the care of his grandparents — particularly his grandmother — than accompanying his parents to see Ginny's family, so that pushed the idea out of contention entirely.

Another heavy breath left his lungs noisily. It was an impossible situation. Tomorrow evening they'd be at Ron and Pansy's, which would most likely be quite boring for a five-year-old, but Sunday was Hermione's birthday, so they'd be at the Burrow, and Drake would be running around, having fun with his cousins. The timing was absolutely appalling.

A light knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. Time had run out for thinking of possible ways to deal with his errant son. "Enter."

"Little Master Drake to see Master," Millie announced.

"Come in, Drake," Draco intoned deeply, without looking at the doorway.

It wasn't until he heard the door close that Draco's eyes rose to meet his son's, but a movement just behind Drake stilled his mouth from delivering the cold greeting that was on the tip of his tongue.

"Millie?"

"Master did summon—"

"Leave," Draco growled harshly. He hated to use such a tone when she was only trying to protect Drake, but it was harden himself or laugh at her futile attempt, and that wouldn't have been conducive in making Drake see the error of his ways.

"If Master—"

"Millie," Draco snarled, the warning in his tone clear to anyone within earshot.

With a last affectionate caress to Drake's arm, Millie Disapparated.

Draco couldn't help but roll his eyes. The old servant meant well, and he had no doubt that after Drake returned to his quarters Millie would be there doing whatever she could to comfort the boy. While he could forbid her to go anywhere near Drake until tomorrow morning, he remembered well the comfort she gave him after a harrowing hour or so in his own father's study. He consciously pushed aside his memories and focused on his son.

Drake was standing in front of his desk with his eyes cast to the floor. The little boy's feet were shuffling ever so slightly and Draco could hear his quick, shallow breaths.

"I had a rather disappointing conversation with Miss Sheehan a short time ago," Draco started softly. "She told me that your behavior today left much to be desired."

"Didn't do nothing," Drake mumbled insolently.

"That seems to be the general consensus," Draco agreed with a cold smirk.

Drake's eyes snapped up in surprise.

"Of course, _nothing_ covers a lot of things if we bring the tantrums and _alleged_ uncontrolled magic into the mix," Draco observed in a casual tone that belied his mood.

"Did nothing," Drake muttered, narrowing his eyes.

"Yes, we covered that part, but we need to discuss the rest of what you did while you were doing _nothing_, and we'll need to look into why you did all this _nothing_ today." Draco looked expectantly at his heir. "Why don't you get started on that?"

Drake opened his mouth, but closed it again as he frowned at his father.

"Let's start with why you misbehaved today?" Draco suggested patiently.

The little boy shrugged carelessly. "Bored."

"Did it occur to you that if you did the work Miss Sheehan set for you that you wouldn't have the opportunity to get bored?"

"Work was boring."

"That's too bad. If there's work to do then it must be done. We have discussed this before, Drake."

"Don't want to do boring stuff," Drake mumbled towards the floor.

"As I said before, the boring stuff has to be done too, so you can move on to more exciting things," Draco explained patiently.

Drake muttered something unintelligible under his breath and glared at the floor.

"Now, perhaps you can explain why you threw a temper tantrum and spoke to Miss Sheehan, your mother and your grandmother with such disrespect?" Draco suggested gravely.

"They wanted me to do the boring stuff," Drake whispered. "Even Grandmother," he choked out.

Draco had to clear his throat, so he wouldn't laugh at the forlorn tone his son finished with. He could well imagine how betrayed Drake would have felt when Narcissa didn't side with him, not that it excused his behavior. "So you decided to be rude?"

Drake's eyes slipped up to meet his father's, and then fell back to the floor.

"Did being rude work for you?"

"No," Drake answered sullenly.

"And how didn't it work for you?"

"No one let me go and play," Drake admitted in a small voice.

Draco nodded solemnly. "I can tell you now that it'll never work. Understand?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"Miss Sheehan also told me that you used magic today," Draco stated.

"Didn't! Couldn't help it!"

"Which is it, Drake? Did you do magic or not?" Draco pressed.

"Couldn't help it," Drake uttered.

"So you couldn't help levitating your workbook and tearing it to shreds with magic? Or pushing Miss Sheehan's desk up to the wall, pinning her behind it?"

"No."

Draco leaned forward, placing his hands on his desk, lacing his fingers together. "You know I don't believe that any of those incidents happened by accident."

"Was an acc—" Drake started defensively.

"You might want to think about your answer carefully before lying to me," Draco cautioned. "I know how accidental magic works, remember that."

"Was—"

Draco pinned his son with a questioning glare.

"Didn't mean—"

One of Draco's eyebrows crept up his forehead.

"Don't like Miss Sheehan," Drake blurted angrily.

"Irrelevant," Draco dismissed flatly, forcing himself not to rise to his son's sudden outburst.

Drake's arms folded across his chest, and he glared defiantly at Draco.

It was tempting to demand that his son show him the respect he should, but for the time being Draco ignored the sudden change in his posture. "Do you want to know what I think?"

Silence engulfed the room while Draco waited for his son to answer, but all Drake did was sharpen his glare and pull his arms around himself tighter.

"Yes?" Draco answered his own question with another. "I think you willed all of that to happen. Perhaps you didn't think it would work, but it did. The problem is that you didn't stop when your book was in little bits; you went on to pin Miss Sheehan against the wall with a very heavy desk."

Draco again waited for some response from his son, and again he was disappointed by the silence.

"You hurt Miss Sheehan when you did that," Draco informed him seriously.

This time the silence was interrupted with an erratic hitching of breath. Draco smirked. It seemed he might be getting through at last.

"Is there something you'd like to say?" Draco asked curiously.

"I—I did—dn't—didn't mean—"

"You didn't mean to hurt Miss Sheehan?" Draco offered.

Drake shook his head.

"Well, you did. She's got bruises where the desk hit her." Draco paused to watch his son carefully. He needed to observe a sufficient amount of remorse before concluding that Drake appreciated the gravity of the situation. "And I'm sure your grandmother is very hurt to have witnessed such a display from you. Not to mention Mummy and Angel."

Sure enough, it didn't take long for a couple of fat tears to make their way down Drake's cheeks. The little boy's breath continued to hitch as he fought to keep his emotions under control.

"Now that you seem to understand what you've done is wrong, we're going to set some very strict rules. You are _never_ to use magic. If the Ministry gets wind that you can control your magic already it will create a very difficult situation for all of us. You will attend your lessons Monday through Friday with a smile on your face. You will do exactly what Miss Sheehan asks of you, and you'll do it to the best of your ability. If you are having an issue with anything she is teaching you or demanding of you, you are welcome to bring your complaints to me for consideration, but unless I have ruled that you don't have to do something you will do it as requested and without complaint. As for your temper tantrums, know that they will not be tolerated for any reason or in any situation where your life is not in danger. Understood?"

Drake nodded. "Yes, Daddy."

"Good," Draco snapped. "Now for your punishment: you will apologize sincerely to Miss Sheehan, your grandmother, your mother and your sister for your behavior, citing reasons why you're apologizing and why your behavior is unacceptable, with a promise that there will never be a repeat performance."

"Yes, Daddy."

Draco smirked as his son appeared to relax. "I'm not finished."

Drake's eyes opened wide as he stared across the desk.

"We're going to the Burrow on Sunday for your Aunt Hermione's birthday," Draco told him. "Tell me, Drake, what do we usually do when the family gets together for a birthday?"

"Play Quidditch," Drake answered in a small voice, as if he realized exactly what he wouldn't be doing on Sunday afternoon.

"I'm certainly looking forward to that," Draco claimed. "Are you?"

"Yes," Drake answered uncertainly.

"That's too bad, because you won't be playing," Draco said casually. "Instead, you'll be doing all the work you refused to do today."

He didn't think it was possible, but Drake's face fell even further as the news sunk in.

"I'll escort you up to your room, where you'll stay until you're ready to make your apologies tomorrow morning, and you can give me your broomstick," Draco said.

"My—my broom?"

"You'll get it back when you learn to behave yourself in the classroom." Draco smirked as he stood up.

"But—"

Draco stopped and glanced at his son. It was enough to silence the plea that Drake was about to voice. Without looking at him again, Draco led the way out of his study and upstairs to his son's suite.

"Millie!" Draco called the moment they stepped into Drake's rooms.

"Master did—"

"Drake will be eating in his room this evening. See that his main meal is delivered here, with no dessert. After he's finished eating he can bathe, and then go straight to bed," Draco instructed curtly.

"Millie will look after Little Master Drake," the servant agreed.

One glance at the aging house elf and Draco knew his instruction for no dessert would be categorically ignored. In fact, he was certain Drake would receive a double serve of whatever the kitchen had prepared this evening to soothe his pain. "Drake, your broomstick?"

With a loud sniff, Drake moved to his dressing room.

After a few minutes Draco's patience began to wear thin. He could hear a little rummaging about from the dressing room, punctuated by loud sniffs, but Drake had yet to reappear. "Drake!"

"Trying to find my broom," Drake answered in a small voice.

Draco rolled his eyes and moved across the room. "Let me help you."

Drake's eyes went wide and a small, strangled sound escaped his throat as Draco's hand went directly to the corner where his broom stood against the wall.

"It might have helped if you looked in the place you always keep it," Draco drawled, ignoring the fact that his son had tried to put one over on him. "Millie will be back with your dinner very soon, so I suggest you prepare yourself to eat."

"Yes, Daddy."

"I'll be in my suite with your mother. Millie will be reporting any instances of misbehavior to me directly, so make certain you give her nothing to tell me," Draco told him.

"Yes, Daddy."

Draco nodded his head just once at his son and then left with Drake's broomstick in hand. Just as he stepped over the threshold and into the corridor he heard a wretched wail. He had to draw on every ounce of strength he possessed to keep walking and not run back into Drake's room to comfort him. In the long run he was doing the right thing, he knew this, but it hurt him deeply to cause his son such pain. The need to gather himself did still Draco's feet as he approached his own doorway. All he needed was a few minutes, so he could present a calm façade to his wife and daughter — at least that's what he told himself as he sagged against the wall.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Draco placed Angel on her feet and glanced up at the large house from where they had landed. It was not nearly as impressive as Malfoy Manor — in truth, it would probably fit comfortably into one wing of his home with room to spare — but it was a house of some distinction. There appeared to be two floors of living space, an attic and he presumed there would be a cellar. In the distance he could just make out the shape of a large outbuilding, but he couldn't discern what purpose it served in the fading light.

Ginny was suddenly at his side, distracting him from his analytical assessment of the Parkinson property that Ron and Pansy had accepted from Alfred Parkinson.

"It's lovely, isn't it?"

"Mmm… Quite," Draco mumbled distractedly.

"Draco?"

He turned to find his wife frowning at him in a notable expression of disapproval. "Sorry, love. It's a good house for them."

"Just because—"

"Shall we go and see what sort of progress your brother has made with the renovations?" Draco slipped his arm around Ginny's waist smoothly and they started walking towards the broad staircase that would lead them to the front doors.

Drake and Angel had run ahead and were already hammering on the door, bellowing for their uncle to answer. By the time Draco and Ginny had climbed the stairs, Pansy was greeting the twins with enthusiasm.

"Welcome!" Pansy smiled happily at the Malfoys as they approached.

"Pansy, the house looks wonderful," Ginny told her.

"From the outside," Pansy acknowledged. "We're still living in a mess inside, but we're getting there."

"Pansy, thank you for inviting us," Draco intoned politely.

"I wasn't going to get you here any other way, was I?" Pansy arched a perfectly groomed black eyebrow at her old friend.

"Nonsense," Draco refuted.

"Well, I suppose you might have come over _after_ all the work had been done," Pansy teased. "Come in… come in."

Though the entry looked clean at first glance, Draco soon noticed trails of dust over the wooden floor and little collections against the walls. He looked around for a servant to hand his cloak to, but found Pansy waiting with her hand outstretched, ready to accept his outer garments. "No house elf?"

"No, we do everything ourselves," Pansy answered with a hint of pride.

Her tone took Draco back a little. "Of course," Draco drawled. "You have learned how to cook, haven't you?"

"Draco, don't be cruel," Ginny scolded. "I'm sure Pansy is a fine cook."

"Ron has no complaints," Pansy informed him haughtily.

"Ah, but he'd eat anything," Draco pointed out with an amused smirk.

"Where is Ron?" Ginny asked.

"Through here." Pansy motioned for everyone to follow. "He's still trying to finish the parlor."

"Wasn't he working on that last week?" Ginny questioned.

"We had a little accident with too many paint brushes, so that caused a delay. I was hoping to use the room tonight, but…" Pansy sighed heavily. "We'll just have to stay in the dining room."

Draco quirked an eyebrow questioningly. "An accident?"

Pansy cleared her throat lightly as color flooded her cheeks. "Yes, an accident."

"It's embarrassing," Draco observed.

"A little," Pansy confessed.

"Do tell," Draco pushed with a smirk playing around his lips.

"It's not that exciting," Pansy assured him.

"I thought it was hilarious," Ginny interrupted with a giggle.

"How did you—"

"Ron told Harry, who told Hermione, who told Angelina—"

"I get the gist," Pansy said flatly.

Ginny laughed. "You know there are no secrets in this family."

"There obviously are, because I don't know," Draco grumbled.

Pansy looked between the couple before letting out a little sigh. "Go ahead. You're dying to tell him."

"Pansy came home from work one night to find Ron hard at work in the parlor. He'd charmed ten paint brushes to do the walls, but when Pansy walked into the room he lost concentration and… Well, Pansy ended up the same color as the walls," Ginny explained, trying not to laugh as she spoke.

"You're kidding?" Draco began to snigger lightly, but before long he was laughing hard.

"As funny as it sounds, being covered with paint is not all that comfortable," Pansy stated seriously.

"I'm sure." Draco laughed.

Pansy shook her head and continued towards the parlor where Ron was still working. "Ron!" she called loudly from outside the door.

"You're right to come in, love," Ron answered.

"Not game enough to just walk in now?" Draco teased.

Pansy threw Draco a withering glance before opening the door. "Our guests have arrived."

"Guests? It's just Ginny and Draco," Ron responded.

"He's never going to learn, is he?" Charlie asked from the far corner.

Bill shook his head sadly. "We've done our best. All we can do now is hope she doesn't punish him too harshly."

"What?" Ron demanded.

"Mate, it doesn't matter who it is, if they're coming for dinner, they're guests," Bill explained with exaggerated patience.

Ron rolled his eyes as he walked across the room to greet his sister and brother-in-law. "It's about time you two visited," he expressed.

"It's starting to look good," Ginny said, glancing around the room before she accepted a kiss on the cheek from her brother.

"It's getting there," Ron replied proudly. "Draco."

Without thinking Draco accepted Ron's outstretched hand and shook it. When he let it go he realized his brother-in-law's hand had been covered with paint, which had transferred to his hand. "Ron."

"Drake, don't touch anything!" Ginny growled.

The little boy glanced over at the gathering adults. All eyes were on him and his hand, which was hovering over a large pail of delicious looking fluid the same color as what was on the paintbrushes.

"Come on, little man, go and stand in the hall," Bill encouraged. "You'll end up covered in paint, like Aunt Pansy, if you're not careful."

Again, Drake looked at the adults, then he moved slowly towards the door, where Angel was waiting for everyone. He was not happy, but there were too many eyes watching his every move at the moment.

"Draco, good of you to come and give us a hand," Charlie said as he pumped Draco's hand.

"I really— I'm not—" Draco faltered, much to the amusement of the men present.

"Don't tell us… Your servants would give you hell if you got paint on your clothes," Bill interrupted Draco's stammering.

"No, they—" Draco stopped, unable to speak as Bill clapped him on the back and knocked the oxygen from his lungs.

"It's all right, mate, a little paint won't hurt you," Charlie told him.

"Enough," Ginny said. She was doing her best not to giggle, but her efforts were beginning to fail. Draco's mortified expression every time he glanced at his hand was wearing at her self-control. "Which way to the bathroom, Pansy?"

"It's at the end of the corridor and to the left," Pansy instructed.

"Go on, you heard her," Ginny encouraged her husband.

As Draco reached the door, Ginny had to hold back a gasp. In the middle of his back, against the black of his jacket, was a perfect impression of Bill's hand. "Bill!"

Bill shrugged and grinned at his sister. "Couldn't help myself. He looked _too_ clean."

"He's going to have a fit when he sees that," Pansy said.

"You know he doesn't buy off the rack. Everything is tailor made, and it costs a fortune," Ginny added.

"Because he can afford it," Charlie pointed out.

"It'll come out," Bill assured her.

"Yeah, it'll be as good as new with a proper clean," Ron added.

"You lot need to go and clean up as well, or we'll be eating at midnight again," Pansy ordered.

"Okay," Ron agreed. "We can get back to it after we eat."

"We're having a dinner party and—" Pansy started.

"Just leave it." Ginny placed her hand on Pansy's arm. "If they want to keep going then it'll get finished sooner."

"But I wanted tonight to be nice," Pansy whined. "This room was supposed to have been finished."

"Does it really matter?" Ginny asked sympathetically.

Pansy sighed heavily.

"It doesn't matter," Ginny answered her own question. "We're here to see you, not the house."

"I'm just getting tired of living like this," Pansy complained. "Everywhere we look we have to step over something or take a different route through the house."

"Just try to imagine what it's going to look like when it's finished," Ginny said encouragingly.

"He promised this room would be usable tonight." Pansy looked around at the mess. "It's just frustrating."

Ginny put her arm around the other woman's shoulder. "If it was too much you could have cancelled. We would have understood."

"I know, but I wanted you to come," Pansy said. "I've been surrounded by men constantly — they're not the best conversationalists."

"Tell me about it," Ginny exclaimed. "At least I have Narcissa at home most of the time."

"You don't live on top of each other, do you?"

"No, it's not like that at all," Ginny answered. "We can go days without even seeing each other. In fact, they generally stay in their wing, and we usually invade them."

"It must be nice to know that you have someone there," Pansy muttered.

Ginny took a step back and regarded Pansy carefully. "Are you really all right?"

"Of course I am," Pansy insisted. "I've just been a bit—"

"Lonely?"

"Yes, that's probably the best description." Pansy sighed. "We used to go out all the time, but since we moved in here we just come home from work and get on with the redecorating."

Ginny giggled. "Welcome to married life."

"But we're not married yet."

"You're living together; that's close enough."

"I guess so."

"You're not having second thoughts, are you?"

"No, not at all," Pansy insisted. "I love Ron. I suppose I wasn't quite ready for our social life to die quite so suddenly."

"It doesn't have to," Ginny said gently. "Ron is just concentrating on getting this place livable at the moment."

"I know. He's doing his best."

"It'll be over soon," Ginny assured her.

"Somehow I doubt it."

"How many rooms are there left to do?"

"It's easier to count the rooms we've done," Pansy replied forlornly. "Our bedroom and bathroom are finished. We have a small sitting room upstairs that's sort of inhabitable — it's not been redecorated, but it's been thoroughly cleaned. The dining room was fairly easy and the kitchen, of course, plus a bathroom down here... Well, it's more just a toilet and basin."

"That's it?" Ginny tried to hide her astonishment, but failed miserably. "What about the nursery?"

"I haven't even cracked the door open since the day we decided it would be the nursery."

"Well, the baby will probably spend a couple of months beside your bed anyway," Ginny said encouragingly.

"That is the only plan I have right now, because I just can't see us getting to it in time." Pansy glanced around. "There's so much to do down here to make the house presentable…"

"Stop worrying about it," Ginny insisted. "Everything will get finished, and it'll look amazing."

"Of course it'll look amazing," Ron stated as he reentered the room, looking somewhat cleaner.

"Is she doubting our abilities again?" Charlie asked with a hint of a smile playing around his mouth.

"I'm going to develop a complex if this keeps going," Bill commented humorously.

Pansy rolled her eyes expressively. "And here I thought they ignored everything I said."

"That's why she keeps repeating herself!" Charlie laughed. "New plan, boys… We react and comment on everything she says, so she won't keep repeating herself."

"Noted," Bill responded heartily.

"Just leave her alone," Ron mumbled.

"If she kills you we promise to finish the job," Charlie vowed sincerely.

"You said nothing about stopping her from torturing me," Ron griped.

"It would be considered criminal to put a stop to something genuinely entertaining," Draco drawled from the doorway.

"Enough, you lot," Pansy ordered. "Dinner is ready, so let's go to the dining room."

"Ginny, where's Drake?" Draco asked.

"He was right there." Ginny pointed to the now empty space just to the right of Angel.

"Drake!" Draco bellowed. "Angel, where did he go?"

Angel raised her arm and pointed into the parlor. The little girl's shocked expression seemed to render her speechless for the time being.

As everyone fell silent, waiting for the little boy's response, a gasp was heard from the far corner of the parlor. Bill held a finger to his mouth, instructing everyone to hold their silence while he investigated. He tiptoed over to a large piece of furniture that had been covered with an enormous sheet and peeked around the back.

Bill snorted with laughter. "Oh, mate, you are going to be in _so_ much trouble," he whispered.

Drake stared up at his uncle with wide eyes. The little boy didn't need to be told; he knew his parents weren't going to be happy.

"Come on, there's no point putting off the inevitable." Bill beckoned with his hand.

The little blond wizard shook his head furiously.

"They know you're back here, so you can't hide," Bill said gently. "The best thing you can do is step out and face the music."

Drake's head dropped onto his chest. Miserable didn't even begin to describe his expression. He shuffled forward slowly, not at all eager to for anyone to see him.

Ginny gasped as her son came into sight, and Draco's eyes almost left his head.

Drake was covered from head to toe with mint green paint. It was as if someone had poured a bucket over him.

Pansy groaned, and Angel squealed in horror, but it was just about drowned out by Ron and Charlie's laughter.

"Laugh now, little brother, because when you see the mess behind there you won't find it so funny anymore," Bill instructed quietly.

Ron stopped laughing immediately. "What?"

"I wa—wanted to see h—how deep it—w—as—" Drake stammered through the tears that were now flooding his face.

"Drake, what did you do?" Draco demanded in a commanding tone.

"Did—dn't mean to," Drake sobbed.

"We can work out what happened later," Ginny interrupted. "Right now he's dripping paint on the floor."

"Charlie, can you get one of those drop sheets?" Pansy requested. "If we wrap him up, we can hopefully get him upstairs and into a bath without turning the rest of the house green."

"No problem," Charlie responded. He quickly removed an enormous drop sheet from the long couch in the middle of the room and walked across to Drake, wrapping it around the little boy, so only his head was exposed. "Stand still."

Drake sniffed loudly and nodded, not courageous enough to move.

"Pansy, I'm so sorry," Ginny expressed embarrassedly.

"Don't worry about it," Pansy answered absently. "These things happen."

"They don't happen when children do as they're told," Draco snarled, sending his heir a look that would have killed a lesser child.

"Later," Ginny hissed. "He knows he did wrong already."

"He does this after yesterday's fiasco! He needs—" Draco started.

"He needs to get cleaned up," Ginny butted in strongly.

Draco opened his mouth to respond, but snapped it shut as Ginny's 'back up' made herself heard.

"Shut up, Draco," Pansy snapped. "You can yell all you want later, but right now we need to get him clean."

"How are we going to do this?" Charlie inquired.

"If one of you will carry him, we can go up to my bathroom," Pansy suggested.

"Pansy, why don't we use one of the downstairs bathrooms?" Ginny asked. "At least we won't mess up your bathroom."

"They're absolutely feral." Pansy shook her head. "Not fit to wash an animal in, let alone a little boy."

"I just don't—"

"Ginny, don't worry about it. The paint will wash down the drain," Bill assured her.

"We're ready to go," Charlie announced. "Aren't we, Drake?"

"Follow me," Pansy ordered. "And try not to let him touch the walls or anything. Angel, why don't you wander down to the dining room, so you don't get your pretty dress covered in paint? It's just down there on the right."

The little strawberry blonde nodded and wandered slowly down the corridor in the direction her aunt was pointing.

"No problem," Charlie replied confidently.

"See what you can do to rectify the mess he made while we get him cleaned up," Ginny whispered to Draco before following Pansy and Charlie upstairs.

Draco held his hands out helplessly, but Ginny didn't notice.

"Have you seen this?" Ron inquired angrily. "Have you _seen_ what he did?"

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell Ron that he didn't care, but he swallowed the urge and stepped around the furniture. Draco's breath caught in his throat when he saw what Drake had accomplished. There weren't just a few small smudges of paint around the area; there were puddles of paint on the floorboards along with several handprints.

"How the—"

"You've got me stuffed," Ron cut in wearily.

"Do you have any rags or something I can use to mop it up with?" Draco asked.

"Here's one," Ron offered, throwing a small dirty cloth at Draco. "I'll see if I can find more."

Draco examined the cloth and sighed heavily. "Thanks."

The rag was sodden with the first swipe at the paint. All Draco could do was push the spill together and hope Ron wasn't too long retrieving some more cloths. How they were going to get it cleaned without damaging the floorboards was beyond him, because there already appeared to be some smudges of paint that had dried. Draco leaned over and began scrubbing at a particularly large smudge that was drying quickly. After a few seconds, his eyes widened in shock when he realized that he was making the mess far worse with the filthy cloth. Without thinking, Draco snatched his hand off the floor. It wasn't until he started to overbalance that he realized he'd made a mistake. Panic seized him immediately, and he automatically reached out to steady himself, placing his hand into a puddle of slimy paint.

There was something almost graceful about the way his hand slid across the floor, spreading the paint he'd recently collected even wider. His body tipped towards the floorboards as his hand flew above his head. Panic only just had time to reinstate itself on his face before he released an unmanly shriek and landed on his side on the paint covered floorboards.

"Malfoy?" Ron called. "Malfoy, are you all right? Draco?"

"Fine," Draco ground out. "I'm fine."

"What are you doing down there?"

Draco glanced up to see Ron's staring down at him. "I thought I'd roll around in the paint to see what it felt like."

"That color doesn't exactly suit you," Ron replied, not bothering to hide his amusement.

"Very funny," Draco snarled. "Are you going to stand there sniggering, or are you going to help me up?"

"I think it might be fun to watch you try and get up on your own," Ron answered casually.

"What are you doing, Draco?" Bill inquired with a curious frown.

"Taking a nap," Draco snapped irritably.

"Here." Bill offered his hand. "Don't make any sudden moves and we should be right."

Draco took Bill's hand and immediately began trying to use the other man's weight as a lever against the slippery surface.

"Wait! Stop!" Bill demanded. "You're going to pull me over. Just let me lift you."

"Fine, but can we hurry it up?"

"What's the rush?" Ron asked curiously.

"The paint is seeping into places it ought not." Draco tried not to cringe as his boxers continued to soak up the sticky paint.

"All right, let's get you on your feet," Bill answered. "Don't try to lift yourself."

Draco's arm tightened as Bill pulled steadily at his weight, but apart from his shoulder feeling like it was about to dislocate, he didn't feel as though he was any closer to standing on his own two feet.

Bill frowned and let Draco's hand go. "This isn't working. I'm going to have to lift you using magic."

"I don't really care how you do it, just get me up," Draco replied, trying not to think about what color his bits were going to be when he finally got out of this mess.

"Just relax and don't fight it," Bill advised as he withdrew his wand. "I'll lift you and move you away from the mess before putting you down. It should be easy to get yourself on your feet away from the paint."

"Fine," Draco snarled.

"Wingardium Leviosa_," Bill incanted seriously._

Draco felt the sensation of weightlessness flow over him, and suddenly he was no longer in contact with the floor. It was as odd feeling, and he had to consciously remind himself not to fight against the magic. His side met the floorboards gently, several feet from his original position.

"You should be able to lift yourself up now," Bill said, putting his wand away.

Without the puddle of slimy paint under his body, Draco lifted himself to his feet with ease. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Bill answered casually. "Now we need to get you cleaned up, then we'll tackle the floor."

Draco glanced over to the area he was originally trying to clean. As he feared, the damage his son had wrought was minimal compared to what it looked like now that he'd been rolling around in the paint. "Ron, I'm really—"

"Don't say it," Ron interrupted. "Sorry just doesn't sound right coming out of your mouth."

"I think Draco's going to need a change of clothes, little brother," Bill observed.

"I'll pay to have it professionally—"

"It's nothing we can't handle," Ron insisted. "I'll get you some clean clothes."

"Fresh clothes will be a waste without a shower," Draco informed them. "I can feel the paint on my skin."

"Right." Bill sighed. "Strip off down here and wrap one of the drop sheets around you to get upstairs. Ron, you organize some clean clothes while he's in the shower."

"Pansy's upstairs!" Draco protested.

"And she'll flay you alive if you drip paint in any other room than this one," Bill explained patiently. "Strip off and she'll thank you for not spreading the mess further."

"Make sure you keep a tight hold of that drop sheet in front of her too," Ron growled.

"Well? Don't just stand there, Draco. Get on with it," Bill encouraged. "We'll turn around if that makes you feel more comfortable."

Draco snarled under his breath as he started removing his sodden clothing. The urge to make Drake pay for this little adventure for the rest of his natural life was tempting. He'd never felt more humiliated than he did right now, standing in the middle of Pansy and Ron's parlor stark naked, accepting a drop sheet from a sniggering Bill. Life was never supposed to be like this.

"Ready to brave the women?" Ron asked.

A heavy sigh left Draco's lungs as he nodded and started to move towards the door.

"They're going to wet themselves laughing." Ron chuckled in anticipation of his fiancée's reaction.

"I hardly think this is amusing," Draco growled. "Especially considering the mess of the floorboards in the parlor."

"But they'll see you first, and that'll be enough to get them giggling," Ron reminded him.

"Which way?" Draco demanded angrily.

"Follow me," Ron offered.

Despondent and almost drowning in embarrassment, Draco followed his brother-in-law to the upper level of the house. The drop sheet that was supposed to be protecting him wasn't doing much to keep him warm and it smelled wretched. He shivered and pulled it tighter around his shoulders. His mind was busy trying to think of a way to make this comedy of errors up to their hosts. However, nothing short of paying for a professional decorator could possibly make up for the destruction he and Drake had caused in the parlor.

"Pansy, we've got another one for the bath," Ron announced as he led Draco through the master bedroom.

Draco's eyes flicked up just as Pansy's and Ginny's heads appeared around the doorway of the bathroom. The shock on their faces as they took in his appearance was evident, and he couldn't help but cringe at the questions he knew would be fired at him in mere seconds.

"What on earth—"

"Where are your clothes?" Ginny queried.

"This is what happens when you leave a Malfoy to clean up," Ron answered for him smugly.

"You got like this trying to _clean up_?" Ginny questioned.

"I slipped and—" Draco started.

Pansy shook her head. "You see, this is what happens when you never learn to do for yourself."

Draco looked at his old friend with a horrified expression and took a step forward, his self-respect giving him courage. "But it was—"

"Will you please hold that drop sheet a little better?" Pansy held a hand in front of her eyes. "I really don't want to see where you got the paint."

Pink stained his cheeks as he readjusted the drop sheet to cover his modesty. A deep chuckle from inside the bathroom deepened his color and made him regret attending this evening. "Enough," Draco demanded angrily. "I tried to clean up, and I slipped into a large puddle of paint. It's not funny—"

"You've obviously not looked at yourself in the mirror," Pansy countered with a giggle.

"As I was saying, it's _not_ funny," Draco continued. "The parlor floor is an absolute mess. There's paint everywhere!"

"Everywhere?" Pansy whispered.

"Best you not go in there, love," Ron advised. "I wouldn't want you to slip over."

Pansy's hand drifted up to cover her mouth, and her eyes took on a hollow look of disbelief.

"Don't worry about it, love, we'll get it clean," Ron promised. "I'll get you some clothes, Draco."

Charlie suddenly appeared behind the women. "Draco, come in here and get in the shower."

He had to pass the women to enter the bathroom, and it wasn't something that could be considered entirely good for his health, if their expressions were anything to go by. Draco slowly slid one foot forward and then the other. Neither of the women moved, much to his chagrin.

"Who's with Angel?" Charlie asked.

"She's still in the dining room as far as I know," Draco answered.

"Pansy, it might be an idea to check on her. Poor thing's been sitting there on her own for ages. She might have gotten bored and gone for a wander." Charlie winked at Draco as the words left his mouth.

"Oh Merlin, that's all we'd need," Pansy expressed as she rushed past Draco and continued out of the master suite.

"Thank you," Draco mouthed in Charlie's direction.

"No problem," Charlie replied. "Now get in the shower before anything else gets covered in paint. Drake and I will be out of your way in a few minutes. Unless you want me to scrub your back."

"I'll manage," Draco muttered.

Charlie grinned wickedly. "If you're sure."

With his wife the only female in sight, Draco allowed the sheet to fall to the ground as he entered the bathroom. All he wanted to do was wash the paint off before it became permanent or needed scrubbing from what he considered vital parts of his anatomy.

"Nice," Charlie commented.

Draco's eyes went wide as he spun around to face an amused Charlie. "Excuse me," he choked out.

"The color." Charlie chuckled. "It suits your arse."

"You're so funny," Draco snarled as he stepped into the shower stall and turned the water on.

The fluid running down the drain was a murky green color as the paint mixed with the water. His mind was still struggling with the events that had taken place since he'd stepped into the house. It seemed he was destined to be the laughing stock of the Weasley clan, seeing as he couldn't help but get into trouble whenever there were a number of them around. Draco knew it was pointless asking those present tonight to not mention his little accident, because nothing he could offer them would outweigh the entertainment they'd get from seeing him squirm in front of the entire family. Angry at his circumstances, Draco scrubbed at his body frantically. It wouldn't do to have a trace of evidence on his person when the family started laughing at him tomorrow.

"You're going to remove your skin if you keep going like that," Charlie commented with a worried frown.

"Why are you still here?" Draco growled, not bothering to look at the other man.

"I was helping your son," Charlie answered simply.

Draco muttered something unintelligible under his breath. What he wouldn't give for a little privacy right now. The water running from his body was slowly becoming less colored and his skin was beginning to appear clean again, albeit bright red due to his efforts to remove the paint. At some point, while Draco was concentrating on a rather stubborn stain on his rear end, Charlie removed Drake from the bath and took him out of the bathroom, closing the door behind them. Drake hadn't uttered a word the entire time, but Draco wasn't truly surprised considering the trouble his son had found himself answering for in the past twenty-four hours.

He rubbed his hands over his face wearily. After spending a considerable amount of time in his study last night being berated, Draco would have thought Drake was intelligent enough to stay out of trouble for a couple of days, but apparently not. A knot of dread formed in his stomach as he realized he'd have to deal with this latest foray into the world of mischief, and after yesterday's efforts he was going to have to find some way to make the boy understand what was unacceptable.

"Malfoy, I've put some clean clothes on the bed," Ron said from the doorway.

"Thank you," Draco uttered.

"Are you all right?"

"Fine… I'm just _fine_."

"Just so you know, I know you're lying," Ron replied with a hint of amusement.

"That doesn't change anything," Draco responded flatly. He didn't care that he was lying about his state of his well being; discussing it with Ron wasn't conducive to obtaining a successful solution.

"All right," Ron acknowledged before leaving the room.

Draco slumped against the cold tiles and quietly let loose a string of profanities. One didn't have to be a genius to know that the youngest Weasley brother was making a beeline for the oldest to tell him all about the brother-in-law's current demeanor.

"Are you finished now?"

He jumped as his wife's voice invaded his thoughts.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." Ginny smiled softly. "I just wanted to make sure you got all the paint off."

"I think so," Draco murmured.

"Turn around, so I can see," Ginny instructed. "Mmm… You might want to wash your backside again."

Draco sighed heavily. He'd already spent more time on that area than would normally be considered necessary.

"Did you know that they haven't even begun work on the nursery?" Ginny asked.

"No, I didn't," Draco responded absently.

"We haven't bought them a house warming gift yet—"

He could see where this was leading, and there was only one question plaguing him: _Was it worth arguing with her?_ "And?"

"And I was thinking it might be nice if we paid to have the nursery decorated for them," Ginny suggested with a hopeful smile. "The baby's due in eight weeks, and there's no way Ron is going to get it finished in time, not with all that's left to do downstairs. They don't even have a parlor finished."

"All right… all right! We'll get it done for them, but you're to make the arrangements and check everything with Pansy first. Okay?"

"I'll take care of everything. All you'll have to do is accept their thanks."

Draco shook his head at his wife. He had a feeling things weren't going to go right this evening, but little did he know he'd be emptying a Gringotts vault for his trouble. "Just don't go overboard," he warned.

"You've just got a little more paint here," Ginny said with a nefarious smirk as her hand reached into the shower.

"Ginny! Not here!" Draco stepped back until he couldn't go any further. "Your brothers aren't exactly worried about affording me any privacy."

"So?"

"Can you not imagine their reaction if they found you… found you _cleaning_ me?"

"I think their reactions would be funny."

"From your point of view," Draco uttered. "I'm the one they'd torture."

"They wouldn't," Ginny scoffed.

"They would, and you know it," Draco countered strongly. "They'd wait until you were otherwise occupied, and then they'd take to me. The whole bloody lot of you should have been in Slytherin!"

"Should I be offended?" Charlie asked as he reentered the bathroom.

"Not at all," Ginny replied. "You just received Draco's highest compliment."

"Was there something you wanted, Charlie?" Draco ground out from the shower. Again, the disregard for his privacy irked him.

"I just came up to let you know that Pansy's feeding the twins. Drake was apparently starving when he got back downstairs," Charlie informed them.

"Thanks, Charlie," Ginny responded.

Uncharitable thoughts about how he should be sending his heir to bed without dinner for a month roamed freely through Draco's mind, even though he knew it would be pointless to try and introduce such a punishment. There was something to be said for the house elves of Malfoy Manor and their protectiveness of the smallest members of the family.

"See you two downstairs." Charlie lifted his hand in a halfhearted wave before disappearing.

"I think I'll get out," Draco mumbled. "I'll get the rest off at home."

"Here's a towel," Ginny offered.

"Thank you."

"I'll go and check on the twins," Ginny said uncertainly.

"I'll be down soon," Draco replied flatly.

He noticed the frown that creased her forehead as she left him alone, but rather than call her back now, Draco decided he'd wait until they were home to put her mind at ease. There was nothing he could say now that would help anyway, because he seriously doubted his ability to lie about the situation effectively.

The clothes Ron had promised were sitting in a pile on the end of the bed. Draco sighed and pulled on a pair of track pants there were several inches too long for him. While he was tall, Ron was taller. Unable to do anything about it now, Draco rolled the legs of the pants up so he wouldn't trip over them as he walked. The shirt was no better — hanging from his frame like a loose potato sack.

Before he left the room, Draco promised himself that they would be leaving at the first available moment and not returning until the house had been completed, and his ego had recovered from being seen dressed like a hobo.

"Now there's a look we don't see every day," Bill boomed as Draco descended the staircase.

"It almost looks better on Draco than it does on you, Ron," Charlie added with a chuckle.

"Rubbish! I do that outfit justice," Ron protested. "Draco doesn't know how to wear it right."

"He hasn't got that same slouch you've perfected over the years," Bill observed.

"Precisely," Ron agreed heartily.

Draco paused on the last step and waited for the three men to finish teasing him. Retorts were dancing on the tip of his tongue, but he knew it would only encourage them to continue, and he really wasn't in the mood tonight.

"We were just coming to find you," Bill told him. "Pansy's serving our dinner."

"Good," Draco uttered.

"She's making us eat in the kitchen," Ron added.

He couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the man. Draco hadn't eaten in the kitchen since he was a lad and went there looking for a snack — a snack his mother had forbidden him to eat.

"We're dirty and everything," Ron continued. "It's really not worth arguing the point with her."

Draco nodded slightly. The man did have a point — arguing with Pansy at any time wasn't the best idea, let alone when she was pregnant.

No one seemed to be in any particular hurry to reach the kitchen as they dawdled down the corridor.

"About time!" Pansy expressed impatiently. "I've cast warming charms on your plates. Take any one; they're all the same. I'm going to join Ginny in the dining room. Enjoy!"

It wasn't until Pansy left the men alone that they moved forward to inspect their plates. Draco frowned at the plates and wished desperately that old Parkinson had afforded his daughter at least one house elf.

"This isn't going kill us, is it?" Charlie asked, screwing his face up at the plate in front of him.

Bill leaned over to his youngest brother. "What is it?"

Ron picked up his fork and poked it at the nondescript blob on his plate. "Don't know."

"You have got to get Mum to teach her how to cook," Charlie said pleadingly.

"She does all right," Ron responded defensively.

"Mate, just because no one's died from eating her food yet it doesn't mean she's doing all right," Bill explained. "Try to encourage her to let Mum give her some advice. Unless you like the idea of eating like this every night for the rest of your life."

"Yeah, okay. I'll do something," Ron grumbled.

Draco smirked. He could well imagine Pansy's reaction to accepting any sort of advice from his mother-in-law.

"Come on, we can't put it off much longer or she'll get suspicious," Charlie announced, reluctantly picking up his cutlery.

"I propose we let Ron try it first, and if he doesn't keel over then we know it's at least safe to eat," Draco suggested.

"You heard Bill: she hasn't killed anyone," Ron snarled.

"Yet," Draco added under his breath.

"Who hasn't killed anyone?"

All the men at the table jumped as the voice of the very woman they were talking about interrupted what they thought had been a private conversation.

"Err… Umm— Percy!" Ron stammered. "No one's died from listening to Percy's lectures on cauldron bottom thickness."

"We were just pacifying Draco," Bill added.

"He got stuck with him at the Ministry the other day," Charlie embellished.

"You poor thing." Pansy sent a suitable look of pity in Draco's direction. "How's the stew?"

"Delicious!" Bill answered heartily.

"Best ever," Charlie lied.

"You've outdone yourself, love," Ron supplied without meeting his fiancée's eyes.

"None of you have eaten much," Pansy complained.

"Too busy chatting." Bill winked at her. "You know how it is when we get together."

Pansy rolled her eyes theatrically. "Well, eat up! There's plenty more in the pot."

Draco watched in horror as the other three men lifted healthy forkfuls of stew to their mouths. He wondered how they were able to hold their smiles in place and make what sounded like noises of enjoyment as they chewed. His stomach was threatening to rebel just from observing them.

"Draco, aren't you hungry?" Pansy asked pointedly.

"I—err—" Draco paused as he caught the pleadingly gaze of Ron. It didn't take him long to decipher the trouble he would cause if he refused to eat. "Unlike this lot, I don't eat like a heathen."

Pansy sighed and shook her head patiently at him.

Unable to put off the inevitable any longer, Draco pushed a small amount of food onto his fork and tentatively lifted it to his mouth. He wished the stew smelled tempting, but it didn't, so he couldn't fool his senses by merely closing his eyes. His mind was working overtime trying to come up with a viable excuse not to put the fork in his mouth, but in the second or so before his mouth opened nothing came to him. It was like sludge on his tongue and didn't taste much better than what he imagined the bottom of sewer would. Draco could feel his mutinous stomach clenching and rolling, and he had to will himself not to spit out what was left in his mouth.

"Remember there's more in the pot if any of you are still hungry," Pansy reminded them just before she turned towards the door.

Draco forced himself to grin, though even he could tell it was more of a grimace. At this point he just wanted her to leave, so he could do something about not eating anything else off his plate.

"Will she be back?" Bill whispered across the table.

"I don't know," Ron returned just as quietly.

"I don't care," Draco muttered, as he drew his wand and vanished the food from his plate.

"No offense, little brother, but I can't eat this," Charlie admitted, placing his cutlery on his plate.

"I'll see if I can find something else," Ron offered.

"Anything to fill the hole," Bill qualified.

"There's a loaf of bread," Ron muttered from inside the cupboard.

"That'll do," Charlie answered. "Any butter?"

"I'm looking," Ron replied. "It should be— Here it is!"

Ron emerged from the cupboard with a loaf of bread in one hand and a dish of butter in the other. The moment the items hit the table Charlie swooped on them, removing four slices of bread before passing the loaf to Bill.

"Anyone want some jam?" Ron asked, noticing a small jar of the conserve on the counter.

"Excellent! Throw it over here," Charlie exclaimed.

When Bill passed the bread to Draco he removed a few slices and set about making himself a jam sandwich.

"Oi! I hope there's enough left for me," Ron whined.

"Here." Draco shoved what was left of the bread at the man.

Ron frowned deeply. "The end bits? I hate the end bits!"

"They don't taste any different to the rest of the loaf," Bill advised sagely.

"You sound just like Mum, you realize that, right?" Ron asked sourly.

"When it's for something like that, and I get that reaction from you, I'll wear it," Bill announced amusedly.

"You could have saved me some real bread," Ron uttered sulkily. "It is my loaf of bread. I paid for it."

"That may be so, but part of the deal is you feed us when we're helping you, and you've failed to do that, so your loaf of bread is our loaf of bread now," Charlie responded smartly. "You told Pansy she'd outdone herself with dinner tonight, so why don't you eat it?"

"I didn't say which way she'd outdone herself," Ron clarified.

Bill cringed comically. "Oh, mate, telling fibs by omission could get you a year on the couch."

"My Pansy would _never_ send me to the couch." Ron preened confidently. "She has way too many _needs_."

Charlie chuckled through his mouthful of jam sandwich. "That doesn't mean she wouldn't kick you out the minute she was satisfied."

"She wouldn't," Ron repeated assuredly.

"So you won't mind me clarifying what you said with her?" Bill questioned with a cheeky smirk.

An unguarded expression of panic took up residence on Ron's face. His eyes were wide and wild, and shooting between the door and his oldest brother. "You wouldn't!"

"What would she do if I did?" Bill inquired, as if were seriously contemplating telling Pansy the truth.

"She'd kill me! There'd be no need for a couch. I'd be in a pine box by the time she'd finished with me," Ron declared fervently.

"That's not really an issue," Bill mused aloud. "I do have another five brothers, so one less…"

"How many years have I been saying that for?" Draco mumbled, mostly to himself.

"Shut up, you," Ron snarled at Draco. "No one asked for your opinion."

"I was merely agreeing with Bill," Draco drawled.

"Oooh… And he starts to get nasty!" Charlie teased.

"Remind me that we have to beat that out of him one of these days," Bill replied with a chuckle.

Draco tensed nervously and raised his eyes surreptitiously. He wasn't entirely sure Bill wasn't talking about him. Relief relaxed him again when he noticed the oldest Weasley brother grinning at the youngest.

"This jam is rather good," Charlie said as his fingers dipped into the jar and removed a rather large dollop of the sweet conserve. "Who made it?"

"Mum," Ron snapped impatiently.

Charlie licked his fingers clean. "She must have given you the best jar."

"Of course she did," Ron retorted as he moved the jar out of his brother's reach. "And I'd appreciate it if you left some for us to enjoy."

"Remind me not to feed him next time he turns up at my place," Charlie muttered.

"I have very little food that actually tastes good here," Ron said defensively. "I'd like to keep some of it, so I don't starve to death."

"How are you coping with what Pansy's cooking?" Bill queried.

Ron's mood changed immediately. His eyes dropped shamefully to the table, and a bright red flush crept up his face. "Most of the time I call in and see Mum on my way home from work."

"Doesn't she think that Pansy's cooking for you?"

"Yeah, but I tell her Pansy's tired or whatever, and she feeds me to save Pansy the trouble," Ron confessed in a small voice.

Charlie groaned. "Ron, you can't let this go on. If Pansy finds out and you know she will, because Mum will say something about her being tired all the time—"

"I know, but I'll starve to death if I don't eat," Ron wailed.

"Umm— When Pansy finds out what you've been doing, can I be there?" Draco smirked.

"Because that would be entertaining for you, wouldn't it?" Ron responded.

"Absolutely! I could sell tickets to an event like that. All your brothers would buy one," Draco insisted.

"Bloody brilliant! You know family are supposed to support each other," Ron pointed out.

"We are supportive," Charlie avowed.

"Of Pansy," Draco clarified.

Ron gaped at the three of them.

"Pansy is pregnant and, therefore, in need of our support far more than a strapping lad like yourself," Draco continued.

"Yeah, you can look after yourself," Charlie affirmed. "Look at how ingeniously you're getting fed each night."

"I'm going to get back to work," Ron announced sulkily, pushing back from the table and leaving the room before anyone could respond.

"We really shouldn't tease him," Bill whispered.

"Yeah, but he's so easy to get riled," Charlie reminded him.

"And it's fun," Draco added.

"Is that all?" Bill queried with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, while you're picking on him you're leaving me alone," Draco admitted with a grin.

"The man speaks the truth," Charlie declared.

"We'd better get back to it as well," Bill said. "We've got to work out what to do about the floorboards."

"Didn't the paint come off?" Draco asked.

"Not all of it," Charlie told him. "In fact, not even close to all of it."

"We might have to see about getting the floor sanded or something," Bill added.

"Didn't you do the cottage a few years back?" Charlie questioned.

"Yeah, we did, but it was bloody messy," Bill answered.

"I'll get a professional to take care of it," Draco offered.

"You don't have to do that." Bill shook his head adamantly. "It's nothing we can't handle; it's just going to be a pain."

"It was Drake who created the mess, so I'll fix it," Draco insisted as the men made their way out of the kitchen.

"Draco, we can get those floorboards looking brand new for a lot less than a professional," Charlie said seriously. "There's no need to throw good Galleons away."

Bill stopped and placed a hand on Draco's shoulder. "Look, you can help us, if you feel that strongly about fixing the problem. We wouldn't say no to another pair of hands."

"I—err—I—" Draco stammered.

"You don't want to get your hands dirty?" Charlie tried with just a hint of disgust.

"No, it's not that," Draco claimed firmly with a shake of his head. "It's just that— I've never done anything like that before… I've got no idea what I'm doing, and I'd probably just get in the way."

"You're a smart lad, and we're good teachers," Bill replied. "Hell, Charlie's a professor, so if he can't teach you to do something as simple as cleaning up some floorboards and slapping some paint on the walls… Well, you'd be a lost cause."

As they continued to the parlor, Draco felt as though he'd just been roped into something he was going to regret — deeply regret. He wished that Bill had held onto the 'lost cause' thought, because that suited him just fine, and it would have ensured he wouldn't get dirty. Right now his plan to leave as soon as they politely could felt like it had been a silly fantasy.

Draco's silly fantasy thoughts were confirmed the moment they walked into the parlor. He'd taken no more than three steps inside the room when a paintbrush was forced into his hands.

"We'll concentrate on getting the walls finished tonight and during the week we can get onto the floor," Charlie said as he all but dragged Draco across the room.

"I really think I'd be more of a hindrance—"

"Rubbish!" Charlie scoffed. "You're not getting out of this, so there's no point protesting."

"I'm going to kill him," Draco muttered under his breath.

Charlie patted Draco on the back consolingly. "You'll regret it if you get blood on the floor, and Ginny might notice if he suddenly goes missing."

"I don't think she'd be that bothered right now," Draco replied scathingly.

"Is there something else going on?" Charlie asked, his tone quickly becoming one of concern.

"I've dealt with it," Draco uttered. "Let's just get this done."

"Okay, but if you need to talk—"

"No point discussing something that's over and done with," Draco interrupted sharply. He walked towards the wall that had been half painted and turned just in time to see his three brothers-in-law exchange worried glances. Rather than comment on their silent conversation and get drawn into telling them all about his son's problem with following instructions, Draco focused on what he was about to attempt. "How do we do this painting thing?"

"Just copy me," Charlie said as he dipped his paintbrush into the large pail of paint that Drake had earlier been playing in.

Draco watched Charlie carefully drain the excess paint from his brush on the side of the pail, and then use even strokes to transfer the color onto the wall. The process looked simple enough, though he did wonder why they were doing this by hand when there was surely a charm to eliminate the manual labor.

"Make sure you get even coverage," Charlie instructed. "It's better to build up thin coats, than to have a thick uneven coat right off."

"What are you waiting for?" Ron demanded. "Get on with it!"

"You're a little pushy for someone who has acquired free labor," Draco pointed out a bit coldly.

Ron shrugged his shoulders casually. "You don't want to talk, so paint."

A snarl climbed up his throat, but Draco swallowed it. This family just couldn't leave things alone. He plunged his brush into the pail with far more force that he ought to have.

"You might want to take it easy there," Bill said calmly. "It's not the paint's fault that Ron is a nosy git."

"I am not!" Ron refuted strongly.

Bill sent his youngest brother a withering glance.

"No more than you are anyway," Ron corrected.

"That's irrelevant," Bill claimed. "If Draco doesn't want to talk about it we can't force him."

It took all his strength to not roll his eyes. Draco knew exactly what they were trying to do and it wasn't going to work — he wasn't going to talk. He derived a small sense of satisfaction from having made a firm decision. It wasn't something he always had the opportunity to do, because they were geniuses at getting him to talk about what he didn't want them to know.

Silence engulfed the room as efforts to get Draco to talk gave way to work. Draco was grateful they didn't push the issue, but he wasn't foolish enough to believe that they had given up altogether. As the wall filled with color Draco lost track of time. He was surprised to find himself feeling somewhat satisfied with what he was accomplishing. There was something strangely therapeutic about painting, and he was beginning to appreciate the Weasleys need to do some things without the use of magic, though how they discovered this was beyond him, because his long ingrained belief was still that wizards need not do manual labor as long as they were capable of performing magic.

"Is there anything sexier than men working hard?"

Draco spun around, startled at the amused voice that disturbed the slopping of paint and whisper of brushes over the wall.

"Look at you! Getting all dirty with the boys," Ginny exclaimed with a hint of a smile playing around her lips.

"He might need therapy if he catches sight of himself in a mirror," Pansy pointed out.

"Oh, we'll handle it," Ginny assured her. "Can you imagine the scandal if it ever got out that he got dirty?"

"When you two are finished," Draco drawled.

"I'm finished," Ginny claimed. "Are you finished, Pansy?"

"Yes, I'm finished," Pansy answered.

Bill shook his head. "No wonder the bloke has a thing about getting dirty."

"He had that thing a long time before we had any influence on him," Pansy claimed. "Maybe you boys might be a good influence on him."

"There's a first time for everything," Ginny commented cheekily.

"If you two have come in here for entertainment purposes alone we'll put you to work," Charlie warned good-naturedly.

"Now that would be entertaining," Draco agreed heartily.

"Could you imagine if they got a spot of paint on them?" Charlie continued.

Ron suddenly held his paint-smeared hand out in front of himself with a horrified expression on his face. "Get it off! Get it off!" he squealed in a girlie voice.

Charlie followed his younger brother's lead, holding his hand out in front of himself. "No! No! This color simply won't do! It does nothing for my skin tone. Change it all!" He finished his effeminate tirade with a sweep of his hand around the room.

"You lot think you're so funny," Ginny said dryly.

"We try." Charlie grinned. "What did you disturb us for? We were working hard."

Ginny's eyes left her brother and traveled to her husband. "The twins are really tired. I think we should take them home before they get obnoxious."

"Oh no, you don't!" Bill expressed before Draco could open his mouth to respond. "We just got him to work. You are not stealing our protégé!"

"I—umm—the twins—" Draco began weakly.

"Ginny can get the twins home," Charlie assured him. "Can't you, Ginny?"

"I can manage if you'd rather stay," Ginny responded warily.

"I should— After the mess— If you can manage—" Draco stammered, obviously unsure if he did want to stay.

Ginny smiled at him. "We'll get home just fine. Before we go you'd better say goodnight to the twins, because they'll be sound asleep by the time you get home."

"Where are they?" Draco asked, suddenly worried.

"They're waiting in the dining room and don't worry, Drake is under the threat of witnessing his broomstick being burnt at the stake if he so much as takes a breath the wrong way."

Draco relaxed a little. Such a powerful threat would be sure to keep his iniquitous son in check for a few minutes. "I'll be right back," he said to the other men.

"We might stop for a few minutes to say goodbye as well, and Pansy might like to arrange some refreshments," Bill suggested. "It's dry work painting her parlor."

"You can have Butterbeer," Pansy said in a tone that brokered no argument.

"But we've got—" Ron started.

"Butterbeer or you can have a cup of tea," Pansy butted in firmly.

"Don't push it, mate," Charlie whispered. "After last night you can hardly blame her."

Ron looked at his wife pleadingly. "We didn't mean to get pissed last night, and we promise we won't—"

Bill cleared his throat loudly, effectively interrupting his brother. "Butterbeer is fine, Pansy."

"Ginny, why don't you grab the twins? We'll say goodnight to them on the way out," Charlie suggested.

"I might go—" Draco started.

"We're all covered with fresh paint, so it's probably better if we stay here," Charlie reminded his brother-in-law.

Draco glanced down at the borrowed clothes he was wearing and frowned. He certainly didn't recall getting paint on himself at any point, but he was covered again.

"I'll get the kids," Ginny said as she turned to leave.

"Where are you going?" Ron asked Pansy, who had turned to follow Ginny.

"I'm getting the twins' cloaks," Pansy answered. "Maybe you can go to the kitchen and get some Butterbeers?"

Ron grumbled under his breath as he stomped out of the parlor and disappeared down the corridor.

That now familiar feeling of entrapment threatened to engulf him again. Draco wasn't sure what made him feel as though he owed these men something, but when he figured it out he was determined to destroy it, so he could return to doing as he pleased with no regard for how his actions affected others. A heavy hand landing in the middle of his back just about knocked him over.

"We couldn't give you the opportunity to change your mind and escape now, could we?" Charlie asked with a feral grin.

Draco allowed his eyes to slip closed. Perhaps if he couldn't see them then they'd all disappear for a while. He was right about feeling trapped; they'd deliberately kept him here, so he didn't have a chance to talk to Ginny privately and plan his getaway. "If Ginny needed me then I would be leaving with her," he said to what he hoped was an empty room.

"That's different," Charlie conceded. "If she genuinely needed you then we would have told you to go, but she doesn't need you, so you can stay and help us."

He didn't care how false the smile on his face looked as he opened his eyes, because he'd just come to the realization that it really didn't matter what he thought about anything, the family would always bully him into doing what they wanted him to do.

Bill suddenly appeared at Draco's side. "We'd really like to get the walls finished tonight if we can. Pansy's just about going out of her mind with this redecorating mess, and the baby's not far off, so she's stressed and Ron's stressed… All in all it's not a good situation, and they shouldn't be starting their life together with so much upheaval."

"Fair enough," Draco replied quietly.

"You've proven yourself more than capable of wielding a paintbrush without making too much mess, so that means you've been inducted into the work crew dedicated to getting this house livable in the shortest amount of time possible," Bill continued.

"And if I don't want—"

"As a member of this family, you don't have a choice," Bill whispered firmly.

Draco sighed and lifted his hand to run it through his hair, but dropped it back to his side when he remembered the paint that would be transferred. "What does being in this work crew entail exactly?"

"We work weekends and nights after work. We're having most of tomorrow off for Hermione's birthday, but we'll be back at it tomorrow night," Bill whispered urgently.

"Where's everyone else tonight then?" Draco asked astutely.

"They had in-law obligations and the like, but we were all here last night," Bill replied. "If we could get the downstairs finished it would take a lot of pressure off Ron. There's also the nursery; he hasn't even started it yet!"

"I know, and we needn't bother about it either," Draco said, not bothering to correct himself when he used the term 'we'. "Ginny wants to have it professionally decorated for them as a housewarming gift."

"That's really nice of you," Bill responded.

Draco shrugged. "It was Ginny's idea."

"Still, it's a nice gesture," Bill stated. "Anyway, you're in now, so there's no escape."

"I might not be able to do after work all the time," Draco informed him. "Ginny would skin me if I didn't see the twins and spend some time with her."

"She wouldn't mind if you were here with us," Bill guaranteed.

"The last time I got busy at work and had a few too many late nights—"

"This isn't going to go on forever," Bill said. "We'll do what we can to get the house livable and Ron can finish the rest over time."

Draco felt himself nodding. He wondered briefly if one of them had turned him into a puppet or something equally as silly, because he could clearly hear one side of his brain screaming at him to run away now. The problem was the other side of his brain felt obligated to help, so his feet were nailed to the floor and his head was agreeing of its own volition.

"The point is, he can't do it on his own, and with so many of us available there's no reason why he should. You understand that, don't you?" Bill asked.

"Of course," Draco agreed quietly.

"Good." Bill clapped Draco on the back in a show of comradeship. "We'd do the same for you any time you needed."

"I can afford decorators," Draco muttered mostly to himself. The thought of letting any of his brothers-in-law loose in his home was quite enough to give him nightmares.

The sound of the twins coming up the corridor negated any more conversation. Draco could clearly hear Drake complaining about having to go home and Angel seconding his every grievance. There was also an odd clinking sound that Draco couldn't quite put his finger on.

Charlie laughed loudly. "I'm glad it's you dealing with that tonight."

"Drake won't be," Draco promised seriously.

"Wait there, and I'll get Daddy," Ginny instructed from right outside the door.

"I'm here," Draco said from behind her. "No point in giving him a chance to disappear," he added with a whisper only his wife heard.

Ginny smiled. "Good thinking."

"Right, you two, Mummy is going to take you home. When you get there you will go straight to bed without one word of complaint. Clear?" Draco instructed, as Ron moved past him with his arms full of Butterbeer bottles.

"Aren't you coming, Daddy?" Angel asked innocently.

"No, I'm going to stay and help your uncles," Draco explained.

"So we won't see you until tomorrow?" Drake inquired.

Draco smirked. He could see a spark of hope in his son's eyes. "Apparently not."

"Goodnight, Daddy!" Drake said with enthusiasm.

"Just so you know, we will be discussing your inability to behave in the morning, Drake," Draco informed his son. "After our chat last night, I had expected you to behave this evening, but apparently I was mistaken."

"Yes, Daddy," Drake responded confidently.

A light frown crossed Draco's brow. His words had had little effect on his heir. There was no doubt if Lucius had made Draco such a promise, his younger self wouldn't have slept a wink, but Drake appeared to be untroubled at the idea of yet another trip to his father's study in the morning. "Behave yourself."

"Yes, Daddy," Drake answered with a grin.

"Goodnight." Draco leaned down and placed a light kiss on Drake's forehead.

Angel tried to launch herself into her father's arms the moment he pulled away from Drake, but Ginny reached down to stop her.

"Honey, Daddy's covered with paint, and if you hug him now you'll get paint all over your pretty robes," Ginny explained lightly.

"But I want a hug!" Angel stamped her foot.

"How about I give you a hug when I get home?" Draco suggested.

Angel pouted. "I want a hug now! I always have a hug at bedtime."

"I know and I'm going to miss our hug too, but—" Draco stopped as a loudly cleared throat disturbed his train of thought.

"You could take your shirt off and give her a hug," Bill suggested in a low voice.

"Good idea," Draco uttered, a little shocked that he hadn't thought of it himself.

"You're welcome," Bill whispered smugly.

"Just let me get rid of this filthy shirt, and then we can have our hug," Draco told his daughter.

He ignored the catcalls from the other men as he pulled the dirty tee shirt over his head, and then the complaints about his blindingly white skin. Angel seemed to think her uncles' foolish behavior was amusing, so they succeeded in making her smile at least.

"Oi! Stop looking at him like that, Ginny!" Ron demanded.

"Like what, Ron?" Ginny asked naively.

"Like you want to—to do _something_," Ron stammered.

"What's _something_?" Ginny inquired.

"You know very well what _something_ is," Ron accused her.

"But I might feel like _something_," Ginny said in a completely innocent tone.

"Do not go there," Ron warned.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "You do it."

"That's different," Ron insisted.

"I can't see how." Ginny shook her head.

"I'm a bloke; it's expected," Ron explained succinctly.

"But you do it with Pansy," Ginny pointed out.

"I—well—you shouldn't— It's beside the point," Ron stuttered. "You shouldn't look at him like that!"

Bill chuckled heartily. "You're going to give him heart failure in a minute, Ginny."

"Can I have my hug now?" Angel asked impatiently.

"Of course you can, princess." Draco kneeled down and opened his arms to his daughter. "You sleep tight, okay?"

"I love you, Daddy," Angel whispered.

"I love you too, baby," Draco returned softly before placing a kiss on her head. As he released her, Draco gave her cheek a quick kiss. "Go straight to bed for Mummy, like a good girl."

"Yes, Daddy," Angel answered sweetly. "Will you be home in the morning?"

"Yes, I'll be there. We've got to go to Aunt Hermione's birthday lunch tomorrow," Draco reminded her.

Angel yawned widely as she stepped back from her father. Her little hand wound around Ginny's leg and she rested her head against her mother.

"Drake, come here," Draco said, motioning for the little boy to step forward. When his son was within reach, Draco gathered him in his arms and gave him a quick hug. "I'm counting on you to behave," he whispered into his ear. "I think Mummy is more tired than you right now, so don't let me down."

Drake nodded solemnly and stepped back.

"Don't make it too late tonight," Ginny warned all of them.

"We won't," Draco promised as his arms encircled her. Despite the audience they had he wasn't letting her go without saying goodbye properly.

Just as his head started to dip towards hers a choking sound from behind his back disturbed him.

"Do you have to?" Ron demanded.

"Yes, I think I do," Draco responded smugly.

Now more aware of the spectators, Draco decided to give them something to whine about, if they were so inclined. He dipped his head slowly, capturing his wife's lips softly at first and then firmer, until conscious thought drifted away from him and his tongue demanded entry to her mouth of its own volition.

Somewhere just to the side of them, Draco could hear Drake making gagging noises, and behind them his brothers-in-law were laughing at their nephew's antics. It wasn't as hard to ignore them as he thought it would be, at least not while his wife's tongue was reminding him of what would be waiting for him at home.

His hands also grew minds of their own, wandering down her back to caress her derriere. He thought that maybe his fingers had just touched her backside when he received a sharp shove in the shoulder.

"We do not want to witness that," Ron told him seriously.

"You'd refuse a man the right to bid farewell to his wife properly?" Draco drawled calmly.

"You're not saying goodbye, you're saying _hello_," Ron corrected.

"Are you telling me that you don't kiss your lovely fiancée with passion?" Draco questioned deliberately.

"Not in front of everyone," Ron told him as if he were offended.

"Ah, then it's jealousy that's got you complaining," Draco observed.

"It is not!" Ron refuted.

"You lot can argue about this later," Ginny claimed. "I've got two tired kids to get home."

The men immediately began to bid their sister and the children goodnight. Drake received warnings from all his uncles to behave himself before he was released to walk with his aunt to the front door. Angel played the tired little princess perfectly as she was passed from one shirtless man to another, before being placed on her feet to hold her mother's hand.

"How are you going to manage to get them both home?" Draco inquired.

"Pansy's going to take Drake for me," Ginny said, smiling at her brother's sudden panicked expression. "Don't worry, Ron, she's coming straight back."

"I wasn't worried," Ron claimed as nonchalantly as he could.

Ginny rolled her eyes, gave Draco a last peck on the cheek and walked towards the front door where Pansy was waiting with Drake.

Draco watched until she was out of sight. There was something terribly wrong with him staying here and Ginny going home with the children, but at the same time it felt right as well. He shook his head and sighed. This wasn't the time to try and untangle the complex feelings he'd been experiencing tonight.

"Might as well get on with it." Bill put his arm around Draco's shoulders and led him in the direction of the unfinished parlor. "The sooner we get finished, the sooner you can be home with her."

"Heads up, Draco!" Charlie tossed an almost full bottle of Firewhisky in Draco's direction.

His old Seeker reflexes caught the bottle automatically. "I thought—"

"What Pansy doesn't know won't give us a headache," Ron explained quickly. "If you're having some, drink up, or pass it on to Bill. We've only got until she gets back."

Draco removed the cork from the bottle and took a healthy swig directly from the bottle before passing it to Bill. There was something about the grin Bill gave him as the bottle left his hands that made Draco think of the phrase 'Brothers in Arms'.

"She's back!"

Ron's panicked voice interrupted Draco's musings and all of a sudden they flew into action. He had no idea how it happened, but he found himself standing in front of the wall with his paintbrush poised. The bottle of Firewhisky had vanished, replaced by four open bottles of Butterbeer on one of the sheet-covered occasional tables. Bill was to his left, and when Draco turned his head his brother-in-law sent him a conspiratorial wink. Seconds later Pansy walked into the room.

"You're back at it already! I thought you were going to take a break," Pansy said, looking around at the four men.

"No point wasting too much time," Charlie said.

"We can drink and paint, love," Ron assured her.

About to laugh at how Pansy, once the consummate Slytherin, trusted the word of these men when they were lying through their teeth to her, Draco had to turn back to the wall. He pretended to be concentrating on painting the wall, even though there was no paint on his brush.

"Well, I think I might go upstairs and let you boys get on with it," Pansy announced.

"I'll see you up there later," Ron replied.

"Goodnight, Pansy," Bill said respectfully.

"See you tomorrow, Pansy," Charlie added.

Draco was trying to pull himself together, so he could say something without laughing.

Bill nudged Draco's ankle with his foot. "Say goodnight, so she'll leave," he hissed.

"Dinner was great, Pansy," Draco managed before he had to fake a cough to cover his laugh.

"Goodnight, boys. Don't work too hard," Pansy sang as she left.

All was silent for a few minutes. Not even the whisper of brushes on the wall was evident from any of the other occupants of the room. Draco couldn't look at anyone at the moment or he risked laughing very loudly and he didn't want to alert Pansy to anything that was going on. He was just on the verge of bringing himself under control when someone slapped him on the back of the head.

"You're a good one, aren't you?" Bill exclaimed. "She's not stupid. Your behavior could have given the whole game away."

"So much for being the ultimate Slytherin," Ron scoffed.

"I just couldn't believe the rubbish she was buying without evening batting an eyelash," Draco explained as he rubbed his head. "The Pansy I knew at school wouldn't have believed one word."

"Let's just get on with it," Charlie said. "If she comes down again we'll just silence him, so he can't give us away."

Draco spun around to look at the Hogwarts Professor with wide, shocked eyes, which grew horrified when he spied the missing bottle of Firewhisky in his hands. "What if she—"

"Then we hide it again and silence you before she enters the room," Charlie told him with a cold grin.

"Leave him alone," Bill ordered good-naturedly. "He'll get the hang of working with us eventually."

"Sooner would be better than later," Ron mused aloud.

A frown creased Draco's brow as they all turned back to the painting. Again only the slop of paint and whisper of brushes on the wall could be heard throughout the room. It was punctuated by the occasional slurp from the Firewhisky bottle as one of the men stopped for some refreshment, but that was all. The men were lost in their own thoughts, and Draco was eternally grateful for the time being, because he needed time to compose himself properly.

It didn't take long for the sense of peace and accomplishment to flow through his thoughts again as the therapeutic benefits of this task worked their magic. Draco glanced around as he helped himself to the Firewhisky and realized that this room was going to look amazing when it was finished, and they would be responsible for creating that look. Pride filled him as he picked up his paintbrush again and resumed work.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

They'd only been at the Burrow mere seconds, but already his family had abandoned him. He shouldn't have been surprised, because this had happened time and again, and really he should be accustomed to it by now, but it irked him. Not enough to make an issue of it with Ginny, but enough to make him feel uncomfortable.

"Oi! Looking a bit green there, aren't we, Malfoy?"

Draco turned slowly, sending a withering glare in Harry's direction. He knew it would have been too much for Bill, Charlie and Ron to keep their mouths closed about the unsuccessful dinner party the night before. "I noticed you were nowhere to be seen last night," he drawled.

Harry walked over to Draco with a knowing smile. "That's because I value my health. What did you have for dinner last night?"

"Let's not talk about that," Draco returned in a low whisper.

"That good, was it?"

"Pansy might hear," Draco hissed as he glanced around furtively.

Harry chuckled heartily.

"Something funny?" Ron asked as he wandered over.

"Draco was just telling me about last night," Harry replied.

"He did an all right job," Ron admitted thoughtfully.

"Job?" Harry frowned. "Did he help with the painting?"

"Yeah." Ron's forehead creased. "That's what you were talking about, wasn't it?"

"Actually, we were discussing dinner," Harry responded. "Though I am sorry I missed seeing Draco get dirty."

Ron's face flushed crimson.

"The jam was rather tasty," Draco whispered.

Harry cringed. "Had to resort to bread and jam again?"

"Bill and Charlie reckon I should get Mum to give her lessons," Ron admitted.

"I have to agree," Draco said quietly.

"You can't keep going like this, mate," Harry pointed out. "She's going to notice that loaves of bread are going missing sooner or later."

"I don't always have to resort to that," Ron claimed.

"At least not on the nights you drop in here before going home," Draco clarified, remembering their discussion in the kitchen from the night before.

"You have to tell her," Harry insisted.

"I don't want to upset her," Ron whined.

Harry snorted. "Chicken!"

"Am not!" Ron retorted in a juvenile manner.

"Are too!" Harry poked his tongue at the redhead.

"Come on, Weasley, where's your Gryffindor courage?" Draco asked mockingly.

"Look, I'll tell her. It's just a delicate matter, so I have to time it right," Ron explained.

"Before she's dead would be a good idea," Harry pointed out.

"He might end up going first if he doesn't tell her," Draco added with a smirk.

"I'll tell her, all right?" Ron blurted loudly.

"Tell who what?" Pansy inquired as she approached.

"I think I might see if Hermione needs something," Harry muttered as he patted his best friend's shoulder.

"Umm—yeah—I don't think I've seen the birthday girl yet," Draco stammered uncertainly.

Between Pansy's curiously innocent expression and Ron's look of impending doom Draco was barely holding himself together. There was no way Ron was going to be able to talk his way out of this, unless he could come up with something really quick to explain his expression, but Draco doubted his brain functioned that fast normally, let alone when it was under pressure.

Harry and Draco drifted away as stealthily as they could. If he told her, neither of the men wanted to be in striking distance. The yard was beginning to fill with family members now, so it was easy to lose themselves in the crowd.

Draco absently acknowledged several greetings from the children as they ran past him on their way to the back field. His eyes wandered over the family, searching for Hermione — he hadn't greeted her yet and it was her birthday, so etiquette dictated he should make an effort.

Around the table several of the women were making a fuss over Angelina. Draco's eyes were about to pass over the scene when he froze. He couldn't help but stare. She looked ready to burst. Draco remembered clearly when Fred announced they were expecting another child; it was the first time he'd ventured into the midst of a Weasley family luncheon. It seemed like forever ago. Now Angelina would give birth sometime in the next week or so. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he tried to picture Ginny being that big, but the image wouldn't come to him.

"You right there, Draco?" Arthur inquired.

"Err—Yes… yes, of course," Draco stammered.

"I give her another day or so," Arthur said, nodding his head in Angelina's direction.

"She looks like she should have had it last month," Draco uttered before he could stop himself.

"She's fine," Arthur assured him. "Angelina carries well."

Draco could do no more than stare at his father-in-law. If what he was seeing was 'carrying well', he'd hate to see what 'not well' was. The woman could hardly move on her own and definitely required assistance to sit down.

"Of course, if we could manage to get her excited today we might see the little imp a bit sooner," Arthur continued casually.

"Get her excited?" Draco questioned.

"See if you can make her laugh today," Arthur told him.

"I—I'll try," Draco muttered without conviction.

The conversation was so odd, in Draco's opinion, he had to shake his head to clear his thoughts after Arthur had moved away.

Food was starting to fill the table, and the family was beginning to mill around. Experience taught him to claim his seat early, before he found himself sitting with the children or worse, in the midst of the women. He moved slowly towards the end of the table — the traditional place for the men to gather — with his eye on a very safe seat.

"Draco!"

"Hermione," Draco replied. "Happy birthday."

"Thank you."

"I do hope Potter spoiled you this morning."

"Oh yes, I'm very _spoiled_."

There was something in the way her expression shifted that set off warning bells in Draco's head. He was positive the glow in her eyes wasn't connected to some insanely expensive bauble or breakfast in bed. "Can I offer you a chair?" Draco asked, grasping at anything to change the subject.

"I'm sitting down there." Hermione indicated to a chair firmly in female territory.

Draco offered his arm chivalrously. If his friends could see him now they'd have him committed for sure, but he was desperate to get away from her and couldn't just walk off on her birthday. "Delivered safe and sound," he announced as he held her chair out.

"Thank you," Hermione said with a smile.

"You're welcome," Draco replied. "Enjoy your lunch."

"Such a gentleman," Fleur whispered across the table.

"Ladies." A confident smirk tugged at Draco's lips as he sauntered back to the end of the table. It never hurt one's ego to receive a compliment. His mood faltered a little when he spied Harry sitting in the chair he'd been hoping to claim.

"Something wrong, Malfoy?" Harry questioned.

"I was going to sit there," Draco informed him a little coldly.

"Well, I got here first," Harry responded with an amused smile.

"Only because I was escorting _your_ wife to a chair," Draco returned irritably.

"Hermione is quite capable of finding her own chair," Harry said.

"It's polite to ensure she's taken care of on her special day," Draco replied.

Harry grinned broadly. "I took _care_ of her this morning."

Draco closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I do not want to know."

"Why not?" Harry asked as innocently as he could manage.

"Would you like me to tell you every time I _take care of_ my wife?" Draco snarled.

"No," Bill answered quickly and firmly.

Charlie shook his head and sighed heavily. "I do believe the man has a death wish."

"Perhaps he just likes to be tortured?" Ron suggested.

"Some people get off on that, or so I've heard," Harry added.

"On what?" Fred inquired.

"Torture," Harry answered.

"Yes, please," George said enthusiastically.

"Bend over then," Fred instructed with faux impatience. "He just loves a good spanking," he explained to the rest of the men.

Draco pulled a chair out from the table and dropped his tall frame into it; arguing with Potter about his preferred seat would have been futile and childish, though that did seem to be the theme at this end of the table today. Sometimes he wondered if it might be better to sit with the children, as he tried not to watch the two clowns have a slapping competition.

"Fred! George!" Molly bellowed from the kitchen window. "One of you is going to end up hurt in a minute!"

At the sound of their mother's warning the two men calmed themselves significantly and took their seats as if nothing had just happened and they weren't covered in bright red welts. Draco merely shook his head at the two. It amused him to see them follow Molly's instructions like they were still little boys instead of grown men, but then their maturity probably put them in the 'little boy' category.

There were only another few minutes of chaos before all the food was on the table compliments of the women, and the entire family was seated at the extended backyard table. Even though it was Charlie who had been responsible for gathering the children and ordering them to the table for lunch, Draco glanced down to make sure the twins had made it — there were so many of them that it truly wouldn't be difficult to miss one or two in a head count. Angel waved back at him with a big smile on her face. Drake, on the other hand, sullenly averted his gaze to look at the other end of the table.

Drake's reaction didn't surprise Draco in the least, because they had spent another uncomfortable hour in his study this morning discussing the virtues of behaving in an acceptable manner, especially when they were outside their own home. Draco sighed and turned to look at the empty plate in front of him. He didn't know if he'd managed to get through to his son this time, but he hoped so, because this constant disciplining routine was beginning to wear on his sanity.

So lost in thought, Draco failed to hear Molly's order to eat and he almost jumped out of his chair when the noise level in the yard rose suddenly. It took him a moment or two to gather himself before he could reach out and begin to serve himself.

"All right there, Draco?" Ron asked around a mouthful of food.

"Fine," Draco answered with a frown. "Are you stocking up for the week?"

Ron looked at his plate without an ounce of guilt showing in his expression. "I always eat like this."

"You do when your fiancée isn't cooking," Draco retorted in a whisper.

"Did you sort that out?" Harry inquired of his best friend.

"Sort of," Ron admitted. "I told her we'd talk at home."

Draco's eyes went wide with shock. "And she accepted that?"

"Yeah," Ron answered confidently. "Well, she kind of did… Ginny distracted her, and I guess she forgot she was waiting for me to tell her something."

Charlie laughed. "Got to love when they get absent minded."

"It saved my neck so many times," Bill confessed.

"Women should be vague all the time!" Fred announced with quiet gusto.

"It would decrease our level of pain so much," George agreed.

"You could try behaving like decent human beings," Percy pointed out disdainfully.

"Says the perfect husband," Charlie muttered.

"Just because you're too afraid—" Fred began.

"—Of your own wife," George continued.

"To put a toe out of line," Fred added.

"Of course, it has nothing to do with the fact that I respect my wife," Percy stated sarcastically.

"Nah," Fred dismissed.

"It's because she's not afraid to hit you over the head with a cauldron if you piss her off," George declared confidently.

Percy sent a contemptuous look at his twin brothers. "I believe it is your wives who are experts at wielding cooking instruments."

"Yeah, but we're tough," George countered.

"We can handle a few bumps on the head," Fred assured him.

"Settle down, you three," Bill ordered. "You'll have us all in trouble if you don't."

Percy sniffed haughtily. "My wife trusts that I don't involve myself in any of your nonsense."

Charlie leaned across the table menacingly. "If we get in trouble I can promise you that you will be involved, and I will give Penelope a detailed account of how involved you were, along with suggestions of what sort of punishment you should suffer."

Draco had to bite the side of his mouth to keep from laughing aloud as Percy opened and closed his mouth several times like a fish. Ron and Harry were less discreet and sniggered into their hands.

"That's enough, boys," Arthur ordered calmly. "We wouldn't want to spoil Hermione's birthday."

The men all returned to their meals without further comment. It amused Draco how things worked with the men in the family. A word from Bill and Charlie instantly backed him, but it really took Arthur to step in and put a stop to any nonsense. The twins usually stuck together and were usually at the center of whatever rubbish was going on, Ron and Harry tended to stick together, but sided with Bill and Charlie more often than not. Percy stood alone, but that didn't surprise Draco, because the man was of an entirely different personality than his brothers. All of this left Draco with the question of where he stood. Commonsense told him that Bill was the person to stand behind, but he was a bit uncomfortable pledging allegiance to one when there was always the possibility that he may disagree one day, even if it was only a decision he kept to himself.

When everyone had eaten their fill, the women started to clear the table. The children disappeared into the field beyond the yard, and the men broke up into little groups, enjoying their conversations. Draco remained where he was, relishing a moment of peace and quiet, even though there was enough background noise to deafen the uninitiated. He gazed at his wife wistfully. She was laughing with the other women and generally having a good time. Her beauty, in moments like this, was not lost on him.

"We didn't get a chance to talk all that much last night." Bill sat down next to Draco. "How are things going?"

"Good," Draco answered, averting his gaze for just a second before returning it to his wife.

"Looking forward to the birth?" Bill pressed.

"Mmm," Draco uttered.

Bill frowned. "Doesn't sound like you're exactly excited."

"No… I am," Draco countered absently.

"That's convincing," Bill responded.

Draco sighed. His inner fears were, obviously, impossible to hide at the moment. He detested being caught off guard. "It's nothing to do with the baby. I am looking forward to the birth and all that follows."

"Then what is it? Are things all right between you and Ginny?"

"Yes, we're all right. Better than all right, actually."

"But?"

"Wednesday afternoon—"

"I heard something about Wednesday."

"It wasn't pretty," Draco muttered. The memory of Ginny's distress still tore at his soul. "But it's nothing to do with that."

"What's the problem then?"

"It's not a problem per se," Draco said reluctantly. "It's just my own— my insecurities."

"You're feeling insecure?"

Draco nodded reluctantly. It killed him to admit such things, but Bill had helped in the past, so he trusted the man to keep his confidence and supply him with the advice he needed to get over himself.

"What over?" Bill asked sincerely. "Your ability to raise the kids?"

"No, it's not that. I'm getting better, and Ginny pretty much guides me along that path if I stray." Draco ran a hand through his hair in frustration. He knew he couldn't just drop the subject now, even though he desperately wanted to, and he didn't want to sound pathetic, but that is exactly how he was going to come across. "Wednesday afternoon Drake successfully pushed me out of way and commanded Ginny's attention."

"And?"

"She gives herself so freely to the twins now… What's going to happen when the baby arrives? Is she going to have any time left for me?"

Bill released a chuckle, but quickly smothered it when Draco's whole frame tensed.

"This isn't funny," Draco ground out.

"Sorry," Bill mumbled. "It's not funny, and you're not alone."

"I'm not?"

"We've all been there," Bill admitted. "I have four kids and every time I worried about how each was going to change my relationship with Fleur."

"Did it change?"

"Yes and no," Bill answered honestly.

"That makes sense," Draco snapped sarcastically.

"It's difficult to explain," Bill confessed. "All the worry is negative, right?"

"Yes."

"Have you thought that maybe a baby might have a positive effect on your relationship?"

"But if she has less time for me—"

"It's not about time spent together," Bill cut in. "It's about how you feel about her, and believe me, that will change once you've witnessed the birth of your child."

"How can the time we spend together not matter if she doesn't have any time for me?"

Bill sighed and placed a comforting hand on Draco's shoulder. "She will find time for you."

"What if she doesn't?"

"You're worrying about nothing," Bill assured him.

"She was just so focused on Drake the other night… It was like I didn't exist," Draco whispered.

"You've got to remember that Drake, and Angel for that matter, are experts at getting what they want. They both know how to twist every one of us around their little fingers in a way none of the other kids are capable," Bill reminded him. "Someone once told me that Drake is his father's twin."

Draco rolled his eyes skyward. "And who might that someone have been?"

"As a matter of a fact, it was your mother," Bill answered smugly. "She's quite an interesting lady."

"She is," Draco accepted.

Bill looked over his shoulder and suddenly turned serious again. "You have to trust in Ginny to balance her time, and you have to do your bit as well, as far as giving her some time out from the kids."

"Quidditch anyone?" Charlie asked as he walked past.

"I'm in!" Bill answered. "Draco?"

"Absolutely," Draco responded.

His head shot up when he heard Harry calling to the older boys to get ready for the game. He was about to yell out for Drake not to bother, but then decided to do it discreetly; the last thing Draco needed was his nephews to start arguing his son's case for him. Draco waited patiently for Drake to climb over the stone wall and get close enough to have no choice but notice him. When the little blond's eyes finally flicked up Draco was ready with a crooked finger to beckon him.

"You're not playing," Draco said quietly, but sternly.

"I know," Drake whispered miserably.

"I have your work here." Draco reached into his pocket and withdrew a small square of parchment. With one tap of his wand there was several sheets of parchment sitting on the table awaiting Drake's attention. "You can sit here and finish all of this. If you should finish before the Snitch is caught, you may come to the field and watch."

"Yes, Daddy," Drake answered.

"Well, take a seat," Draco encouraged. "I need to get changed."

A snail might have moved faster than Drake did as he rounded his father and sat in the chair near where his work was waiting for him.

"I haven't got a quill," Drake pointed out.

Draco pulled a quill and ink from his pocket with smug smirk. "You didn't really think I'd forget to bring the essentials, did you?"

Drake accepted the quill with a frown and turned towards his work.

Confident that his son would do as requested, Draco turned towards the house. He was looking forward to blowing off some steam during the game.

"What's all this then?" Fred asked as he picked up the piece of parchment beside Drake.

"Just leave him be," Ginny instructed firmly from the other end of the table.

"This looks like schoolwork," George pointed out, peering over his twin's shoulder. "Why are you doing schoolwork today, mate?"

"Daddy said I have to," Drake mumbled.

"Rubbish! You can't do schoolwork when it's time for Quidditch," Fred stated, as if the mere thought offended him personally.

"Oi, Draco, what's the meaning of torturing our nephew?" George demanded.

Draco turned around slowly, raising a single eyebrow at his twin brothers-in-law. He'd almost made it inside. "Excuse me?"

"Drake said he has to do this rubbish." Fred shook the parchment full of simple words at him.

"Well, if he did his work during class time then he wouldn't have to do it when everyone else is playing Quidditch," Draco explained evenly as he took the parchment from Fred and placed it firmly in front of his miserable son. "Isn't that right, Drake?"

"Yes, Daddy," Drake responded despondently.

Draco smirked at the two protesting men, turned on his heel, and headed inside to change for the Quidditch game. They could complain on his son's behalf all they wanted, but it didn't change the fact that Drake had work to complete, and he only had himself to blame.

"What was that about?" Harry asked as Draco entered the kitchen.

"Fred and George seem to have a problem with Drake doing the schoolwork he should have completed on Friday," Draco explained briefly.

"It's Sunday," Charlie pointed out.

"Yes, I'm aware of that," Draco answered patiently.

"If the work was supposed to be done on Friday why is Drake doing it now?" Charlie posed curiously.

"Tutor not working out?" Harry enquired.

"There's nothing wrong with Miss Sheehan. She's a fine tutor. Drake, on the other hand, is a poor student. He has decided that he doesn't want to do _any_ work. The woman was, apparently, beside herself before lunchtime on Friday." Draco looked around the room at his captive audience. "Does anyone have a problem with how I'm dealing with adjusting _my_ son's attitude?"

Charlie's eyes roamed the room before he met Draco's harsh gaze. "Not at all. We were just curious. You didn't say anything about this last night either."

"I had issued his punishment, and it had nothing to do with last night," Draco snapped.

"Just one word of advice," Charlie continued.

"What might that be?"

"I wouldn't leave Drake alone with the twins for too long, or they'll be teaching him some new tricks," Charlie advised, nodding towards the window that afforded a clear view of the twins leaning over the small blond boy.

"Drake isn't foolish enough to try anything they might suggest," Draco replied confidently.

"He might get desperate," Harry suggested.

"After spending an hour or so in my study on Friday night explaining himself, I don't think he'll be disrupting lessons for a good long while." Draco smirked at the memory.

"That sounds like it would have been fun," Harry commented.

"Watching him squirm held some entertainment value," Draco admitted, even though at the time it was far from fun.

"Can I ask exactly how you're punishing him?" Charlie requested.

"He had to apologize to Miss Sheehan, my mother, Ginny and Angel for his behavior, citing the reasons why he was apologizing and why his behavior was unacceptable, along with a promise that there will never be a repeat performance. He made his apologies Saturday morning, with the exception of Miss Sheehan." Draco smirked at the memory. Drake had been infinitely uncomfortable admitting he'd been wrong and could hardly be heard at times, a fact that irked the boy's grandfather, but he'd managed to stammer out his reasons. "He's banned from playing Quidditch today, and he's lost his broomstick until he learns to behave in the classroom."

Charlie nodded thoughtfully.

"That's got to be hurting him," Harry uttered.

"That's the idea," Draco said. "His broomstick is his most prized possession at the moment, so removing it, indefinitely, wounds him deeply."

"Hey, are we playing Quidditch or are you lot going to stand around gossiping?" Bill asked as he entered the kitchen ready to play.

"Playing," Charlie answered as he moved towards the sitting room.

"What's going on?" Bill inquired.

"Seems Drake has been a bit of handful since Friday," Charlie whispered.

"I thought there was something else going on," Bill returned quietly. "Does he need any help?"

"No, _he's_ got it under control," Draco responded strongly.

"Sorry," Bill muttered. "I didn't mean to—"

"It's all right," Draco cut him off. "I know you mean well. Thank you, but I have the situation under control."

"Well, the offer is there any time you need us," Bill reiterated sincerely.

"I think the boy is managing quite well on his own," Charlie said as he patted Draco on the back.

"That's good." Bill smiled briefly. "I'll go and organize the equipment, while you lazy buggers get changed."

"Err— Bill, do you think you could move Fred and George away from Drake? He's supposed to be finishing his schoolwork, and they're clearly distracting him," Draco muttered.

"No problem." Bill winked at him as he moved away.

Draco and the others moved upstairs to change for the game. He was feeling somewhat lighter than he had since much earlier in the week. Charlie's words of confidence had done a lot to boost his mood, along with Harry's understanding of what hurt Drake the most. While he didn't feel he needed their approval, it certainly helped to know he was on the right track as far as his children were concerned. Now all he could do was hope that Drake took his punishment to heart and remembered it long enough to give Draco a break from being the 'bad guy' for a good while.

It didn't take the men long to change and return to the backyard. As Draco exited the house his eyes immediately sought out his son, who appeared to be working diligently, much to his pleasure. Next Draco's eyes scanned the women to find Ginny. She was standing in the middle of quite a gathering with many hands on her stomach — the baby must have been moving. His hand twitched automatically, wanting to connect with his child.

"Baby must be moving," Harry observed when he noticed the women.

"That one's going to be a Beater," Draco said proudly. "It kicks with power."

"Pretty amazing, isn't it?" Harry asked in a soft voice.

Draco nodded. Though he personally thought 'amazing' was a bit of an understatement. He was completely in awe of the miracle.

"Are you two going to play or are you going to stand there all day gossiping like women at a baby shower?" Bill inquired impatiently.

"We're coming," Harry answered. "You can feel the baby later," he whispered to Draco.

"I don't need—"

"Yeah, that's why your hand is twitching." Harry looked down purposely. "Don't worry, I know the feeling. You just want to feel it."

Draco suddenly felt more than a little uncomfortable. It was good that there was another man who understood what he was feeling, but at the same time having another know what he was feeling didn't sit well with him, especially as the emotions involved were anything but masculine. "Let's go before Bill gets his britches in a knot."

Within seconds all thoughts of moving babies and naughty children left Draco's head as he became involved in the final preparations for the game. The teams were picked with few protests — one team had to have Percy — and then the men were in the air. It wasn't until that moment that Draco realized he really should have had his broom out earlier in the week, because it was exactly what he needed to clear his head and shake off the frustration that hadn't been far from his being the last few days.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

**_AUTHOR'S NOTE_**

_Thanks to Rainpuddle13 for her fantastic beta skills!_


	17. Murderous Monday

_**Disclaimer**__: I don't own any of the characters you may recognize from the wonderful world of Harry Potter, they all belong to the revered JK Rowling; I just like to play with them a little._

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

**MURDEROUS MONDAY**

Drake approached the classroom with ever-increasing dread. He was hyperaware of his father's hand on his shoulder, guiding his direction and ensuring there was no escape.

Angel was skipping ahead of him, happy to be returning to the room he'd secretly dubbed the torture chamber. As she entered the classroom, Drake could hear her almost sing her cheery morning greeting.

He stalled at the threshold. His stomach clenched and his mouth felt dry.

"Keep moving," Draco hissed.

A little squeak escaped his throat, as his foot moved forward, seemingly of its own volition. His eyes scanned the room quickly before dropping to the floor. Angel was hugging Miss Sheehan — her betrayal stung.

"Good morning, Miss Sheehan," Draco intoned deeply.

"Mr. Malfoy, this is a surprise," the tutor expressed as she straightened up.

"I wanted to personally assure you that Drake has been thoroughly dealt with after Friday's incident and make certain that today got off to a positive start."

"Thank you. Your support is much appreciated."

"Drake, I believe you have something to say," Draco prodded.

Drake swallowed hard. His throat was so dry that he was sure he'd be unable to do anything more than whisper. The pressure increased on his shoulder, telling him that his father was growing impatient. "I'm sorry."

"What else?" Draco prompted.

"It won't happen again," Drake whispered.

"Thank you, Drake. Your apology is accepted." Miss Sheehan smiled at him. "I hope we can move forward from here as friends."

Drake nodded reluctantly. If she was really his friend she'd let him play instead of forcing him to do boring work.

"I also had him complete the work he missed on Friday." Draco offered the woman the parchments.

"I appreciate that, thank you," Miss Sheehan said as she accepted the work. "Did you have any trouble, Drake?"

"No," Drake answered with a hint of arrogance.

"That's wonderful," Miss Sheehan replied.

"Well, I'll let you start your day," Draco announced.

"Aren't you staying, Daddy?" Angel asked disappointedly.

"I have to go to work, princess, but I'll see you this evening," Draco promised.

Angel pouted. "Okay," she whispered.

Draco gathered his daughter in his arms and hugged her before kissing the top of her head. "You have a good day."

"You have a good day too, Daddy," Angel responded.

The moment his sister stepped away from their father Drake could feel his father's eyes burning into him. He couldn't help but look up.

"Drake?" Draco beckoned him into his arms for a hug. "I want you to make an extra special effort to be good today," he whispered.

"Yes, Daddy." Drake allowed his head to drop onto his father's broad shoulder. It was nice in Daddy's arms — warm and safe.

"We'll talk all about your day tonight," Draco avowed.

It was a little chilly when Daddy let him go, and Drake felt inexplicably sad when he watched his father disappear through the door after giving Miss Sheehan one last nod.

"Let's take our seats, children," Miss Sheehan suggested in a light tone. "We have much to catch up on today."

"Can we do writing first?" Angel asked enthusiastically.

"Absolutely," Miss Sheehan agreed. "Why don't you get some parchment out and you can write about what you did this weekend?"

"We did lots," Angel informed her tutor with wide, excited eyes.

"Wonderful! You'll have lots to write about then," Miss Sheehan replied happily. "I'm looking forward to reading all you did this weekend too, Drake."

"Did nothing," Drake responded sullenly.

"How did you manage that when Angel did so much?"

"Wasn't allowed," Drake answered insolently.

"Well, you can write about what you did while Angel was so busy," Miss Sheehan replied lightly. "I'll have two different stories to read."

Drake stared at the surface of his desk for a few moments before moving his hands to extract a sheet of parchment from the drawer. He didn't want to tell her what he did this weekend, not when there were better things to do, like go outside and play. His eyes wandered across to his sister, who was waiting eagerly for Miss Sheehan's attention, so she could begin writing what Angel would copy. With nothing else to occupy his hands, Drake reached absently for his quill, letting it drop point down onto the parchment again and again.

Blooms of ink spread across the parchment. It intrigued him how a single drop of ink could grow so big. All the blobs were just about perfectly round as the quality parchment was smooth and had no faults.

Drake glanced slyly to his left. Angel was telling Miss Sheehan about her weekend in a rather animated fashion, and the tutor was absorbed in writing everything down. Neither was paying the least bit of attention to him.

Curious as to what would happen if more ink were allowed to flow, Drake pressed down on the quill hard. He moved the tip around just a little, altering the angle and he was delighted when a flood of black fluid burst from the quill. The parchment absorbed some of the ink, but there were puddles left in some places. He began to push the tip of his quill through the puddles, moving the excess ink to less inhabited areas of the page. Before long the entire page was black and the excess had started to dribble onto the desk.

Panic rippled through him. If he didn't clean this up he'd get in trouble for sure. For a moment he couldn't think, and then a solution came to him. Drake shot a quick glance to his left — Miss Sheehan was still oblivious to his activities. He very carefully opened his desk drawer and extracted several sheets of parchment. As the sheets landed on the desk they began to soak up the errant ink. Relieved now, Drake leaned forward to watch the fascinating patterns being designed on the parchment. The desk drawer closed with a bang and he froze, as the sound seemed to reverberate around the quiet classroom.

"Drake!" Miss Sheehan shrieked. "Oh my goodness!"

The tutor appeared flustered for a moment, and then she sprang into action.

"Up! Stand up and move away from the desk before you get ink on yourself." Miss Sheehan's hands were motioning wildly. "You too, Angel. Go and stand near my desk while I take care of this."

With wide, horrified eyes Drake moved to join Angel, who had almost run away for fear of getting dirty. He was going to be in so much trouble now.

A piercing scream broke through his miserable thoughts and his eyes went immediately to his twin. Angel was pointing at him with unveiled horror. Drake looked down and suddenly felt ill. There was a large streak of ink across his belly.

"Angel, calm down," Miss Sheehan pleaded. "Tell me what the problem is."

The little strawberry blonde opened and closed her mouth several times, but all that was released were unintelligible whimpers.

Miss Sheehan's eyes followed Angel's hand, which was still pointing accusingly at Drake. She took in the little boy's pale face and wide, horrified eyes. "Drake, don't move, honey. We're going to get you cleaned up and see if the house elves can get that ink out of your clothes."

Drake nodded weakly. He felt like he was going to lose his breakfast at any given moment and he couldn't draw a full breath.

"Can one of you summon a house elf?" Miss Sheehan asked. "They'll come quicker if you—"

"Millie," Drake managed softly. "I need you."

"Little Master did—" The aging house elf stopped when she saw the mess in the room. "Millie will fix mess right away. Tutor will stand back and let Millie clean."

Clare Sheehan stepped out of the way quickly, obviously relieved to not have to deal with the mess.

Millie waved her hand in the general direction of Drake's desk, and the ink began to vanish. She muttered to herself about her poor little Master while she was cleaning. Before long the only evidence that there had been an incident was the state of Drake's clothes.

"Thank you, Millie," Miss Sheehan expressed gratefully.

"Millie will take Little Master Drake to change his clothes," the house elf announced.

"I—err—" Drake stammered.

"Come, come," Millie insisted. "Little Master needs to get clean."

Drake was powerless as Millie ushered him out of the classroom. She'd towed him several meters down the corridor before his sense of self preservation kicked in and he stopped dead.

"Something is wrong—"

"If Mummy or Daddy sees me—"

Millie silenced her young master with a pat on his arm. "Master Drake will wait in the bathroom, and Millie will bring clean clothes."

Drake nodded and managed a small smile for the servant. There was a chance that he might avoid getting into trouble. He had Millie's help, so all he had to worry about was Miss Sheehan. Perhaps she wouldn't say anything? Drake could hope at least.

He'd only been in the bathroom a few minutes when Millie appeared by his side with a neat pile of clothes.

"Little Master change now and Millie will take care of dirty clothes."

"Thanks," Drake uttered.

He looked at the small pile of clothes Millie had brought. They were very similar to the clothes he had on and she had even thought to include clean underwear. He removed his soiled clothing and was about to reach for the clean pile when Millie suddenly seized his hand.

"Little Master must wash his hands first."

For the first time Drake consciously looked at his hands — they were smudged with black. The water in the sink was flowing before he decided that Millie was right and she was waiting with a bar of soap.

It seemed like he'd had his hands under the water forever and still the water running off was a dirty gray color.

"Millie, it's still—"

"Little Master must keep washing." Millie inspected his hands. "It will come off."

Drake turned back to his task. Miserable didn't cover how he was feeling at the moment. If he didn't get his hands clean it wouldn't matter if Millie took care of his clothes or if Miss Sheehan didn't say anything, his father would know something had happened. A small pop behind him pulled Drake from his gloomy thoughts.

"Why is Ippy here?" Millie asked.

Drake frowned as he turned around. He'd heard the caution in Millie's tone, and he knew if there was a house elf in the house who would tell tales it was Ippy, who remained faithful to his grandfather.

"Ippy has a delivery for Master Drake," the servant announced.

"Millie will take it." Millie's gnarled hands seized the box Ippy was holding.

Ippy tried to pull the box away from the other servant. "It is for Master Drake, not Millie."

"Little Master Drake is washing his hands," Millie said sternly.

"My instructions—" Ippy started.

"Little Master Drake needs to tell Ippy what to do," Millie cut in.

"Give it to Millie," Drake ordered. He glanced at Millie to see if that's what had been expected. She was looking at him expectantly and moving her head in Ippy's direction. Drake shook his head just a little to let Millie know that he didn't understand.

"Ippy needs to return to his duties," Millie supplied in a loud whisper.

"Oh," Drake uttered. He turned to his grandfather's servant and composed himself before opening his mouth. "Return to your duties," he delivered in an almost perfect impression of Lucius.

Ippy sniffed, bowed low and then Disapparated.

"Little Master needs to keep washing," Millie urged.

"What's in the box?" Drake asked curiously.

"Millie does not know."

"Who's it from?"

Millie tipped the box over, examining every side of it. "It does not say. Little Master should keep washing his hands."

Drake glanced at his hands. They were still stained. "Can't you do something, Millie?"

The house elf shook her head gravely. "Millie is not allowed to use magic on wizards."

"Please, Millie?" Drake begged. "I know you can do it, and I won't tell anyone."

Millie muttered to herself for a few moments before seemingly coming to a decision. "Little Master will hold his hands out and he will promise Millie never to tell anyone."

Drake held his hands out eagerly. "I promise."

The house elf held one of her hands over Drake's. A warm tingly sensation flowed through his hands as they were bathed in a soft glow.

"Show Millie again," the servant said as she turned Drake's hands over in hers. "They is clean now."

"Thanks, Millie," Drake exclaimed as he held his hands up. "I want to see what's in my box."

"Little Master should put some clothes on first," Millie advised.

"But I—"

"Millie will hold Little Master Drake's box while he puts his clothes on," Millie said in a firm tone that brokered no argument.

Drake pouted unhappily, but complied with the instruction. His eyes kept flicking to the box Millie was holding. He hadn't really been that interested when Ippy appeared with the parcel, but now his curiosity was getting the better of him and he needed to know what was inside.

"I'm done," Drake announced as soon as his shirt slipped over his head. "I can open it now."

"Little Master needs to straighten his clothes up," Millie said.

"Later," Drake uttered as he reached for the parcel.

Millie sighed and tutted, but relinquished the box to her young master.

Without delay, Drake tore the box open. There were lots of items inside, and there was a letter right on top. He pulled this out and passed it to Millie. "Can you read it for me?"

The house elf unfolded the parchment.

"_Drake,_

_We promised we'd send you some things to make school more entertaining, so here they are. There's just one thing: you can't tell your parents where you got this stuff._

_Have fun!_

_Uncle Fred and Uncle George."_

Drake's face lit up as his hands dove into the box. His uncles had promised to send him some things to make his lessons less boring yesterday, but he hadn't thought any more about it until now.

"Millie will take your gift to your chambers to play with after lessons," Millie said as she tried to pick the box up.

"Not yet," Drake answered, moving the box out of her reach. "I want to see what they sent."

The house elf withdrew her hands reluctantly. While Drake was examining each item with great excitement, she was muttering under her breath about Fred and George making trouble for little boys.

Drake ignored her mumbling and slipped several things into his pockets when he thought she wasn't looking. His twin uncles were his heroes. There was no way he was going to get bored with all this excitement in his possession. When his pockets were full, he closed the box and pushed it towards Millie.

"Millie will take it to Little Master's chambers now?" the servant asked.

"Make sure you hide it in the dressing room." Drake thought hard for a moment. "Put it in the corner where my broom usually sits."

Millie nodded. "Little Master needs to get back to the classroom now."

A smirk tugged at Drake's lips. "Yeah, I'm going."

"Little Master needs exercise caution or he'll find himself in trouble. Trouble Millie won't be able to help him out of," the servant muttered.

Drake frowned briefly, but the worry was short-lived. He was going to enjoy today and nothing was going to stop him. "See you at lunch, Millie."

With an extra spring in his step, Drake left the bathroom and returned to his classroom. He could hear Millie continuing her mumbled warning, but he was in no mood to listen.

When he entered the classroom, Miss Sheehan was helping Angel again, but her head came up the moment the door closed.

"Welcome back, Drake," the tutor said. "What happened before? Did your quill leak?"

"Umm—" Drake faltered for a fraction of a second. He had expected to be chastised for making such a mess. "Yes, it just went everywhere."

"Never mind," Miss Sheehan intoned kindly. "These things happen, but next time let me know right away, rather than trying to clean it up yourself."

"Okay," Drake agreed.

"Shall we start on your writing?" Miss Sheehan asked.

"Do I have to?"

"Yes, you have to or you won't learn how to do it for yourself."

Drake sighed dramatically and moved to his chair.

"Now… What did you get up to this weekend?" Miss Sheehan came and knelt beside his chair.

He couldn't help but shrug insolently. This was the last thing he felt like doing, especially when he had his pockets full of things from his uncles' shop. Still, he pretended to think hard, but he was really trying to remember what Uncle Fred and Uncle George had been telling him yesterday. They had given him many ideas to get out of lessons, so it was just a matter of choosing which ideas to use today — he didn't want to use his whole arsenal in one day.

"Come on, Drake," Miss Sheehan encouraged. "What about Saturday night? Didn't you go out to dinner?"

"To Uncle Ron's and Aunt Pansy's," Drake admitted.

"That's a start." Miss Sheehan wrote carefully on a piece of parchment. "What did you do while you were there?"

"Got paint all over me," Drake told her.

"Oh dear! How did you manage that?"

"He was being naughty," Angel interjected. "Daddy said—"

"Have you finished your writing, Angel?" Miss Sheehan interrupted.

"No," Angel answered.

Miss Sheehan looked at the little girl meaningfully. "I think you should finish that, don't you?"

Angel's eyes fell back to the parchment and she began to carefully copy the words Miss Sheehan had written for her.

"So, Drake, what happened when you got paint on you?"

"Uncle Charlie wrapped me in a big sheet and carried me up to Aunt Pansy's bathroom and he helped me get all the paint off. Then Daddy came in and he was covered in paint too."

"Really? Goodness that must have been some dinner party! What happened next?"

"Aunt Pansy found me some of Uncle Ron's clothes. They were really, really big. Then we had dinner in the dining room, but Daddy, Uncle Ron, Uncle Bill and Uncle Charlie had to eat in the kitchen."

"What did you have for dinner?"

"I don't know, but it tasted awful." Drake screwed his nose up. "Mummy said we had to eat it, and we couldn't tell Aunt Pansy how horrible it was."

"Okay," Miss Sheehan uttered slowly as her quill traveled across the page. "What did you do after dinner?"

"Nothing." Drake shrugged. "We sat at the dining table and listened to Aunt Pansy and Mummy talk, and then we went home."

"Why don't we write something about Sunday as well then?" Miss Sheehan suggested.

Drake sighed heavily. "We went to Aunt Hermione's birthday at the Burrow. We ate lunch, and then I did schoolwork while everyone else played Quidditch."

"What sort of cake did your Aunt have?" Miss Sheehan asked.

"A normal one."

"What's a normal one?"

"Same one Grandma makes for everyone," Drake answered.

"Was is nice?"

"Grandma's cakes are always good!"

"Of course they are." Miss Sheehan smiled sweetly. "Why don't you make a start on this? If you think of anything else you'd like to add, call me over."

Drake didn't answer. He watched from under his lashes as his tutor moved away to check on Angel's progress. The words on the page were taunting him, telling him that he couldn't go outside and play. Discontent crept into his attitude and he stared at the work before him with contempt.

"Come on, Drake," Miss Sheehan encouraged. "If you spend too long on this we won't get to do some of the other things I have planned for today."

His hand reached out and picked up the quill sitting beside the blank parchment that he was supposed to fill with words. Drake slyly looked up and noticed that his tutor was busy at her desk and not paying them any attention. The quill slid silently from his hand onto the desk.

Without drawing any attention to himself, Drake carefully extracted the goodies from his pocket and stowed them in his desk drawer, with the exception of one – a wild-fire whiz bang. He turned the small cylinder over in his hand, wondering how he might ignite the fuse. The biggest problem was that he didn't have a wand, and that was how he'd seen his uncles set off the fireworks in the past.

"Drake, you are working, aren't you?" Miss Sheehan questioned.

"I—I'm just trying to think of something else to write," Drake answered.

"All right, but don't think for too long, because we have to get this finished before we move on," she advised. "I'll be back in a couple of minutes."

"Where are you going?" Angel inquired.

"I just need to visit the bathroom," Miss Sheehan replied. "I won't be long," she called as she exited the classroom.

It took Drake about ten seconds of internal debate before he sprang from his chair and ran to Miss Sheehan's desk. The woman had left her wand sitting on her desk, and it was just what Drake needed to get his wild-fire whiz bang to come to life.

"Drake! That's Miss Sheehan's!" Angel stated as her brother's hand closed around the wand.

"I'm just borrowing it," Drake explained. "I need to practice."

"Practice what?"

Drake ignored his sister's question. "Just don't say anything."

"But she'll—"

"Please, Angel?"

The strawberry blonde sighed lightly. "All right, but if you get into trouble again—"

"I won't," Drake assured her. "Shh, here she comes."

Drake's bottom had just touched his chair when Miss Sheehan returned to the classroom. He'd carefully placed her wand on the side of his chair and quickly picked up his quill.

"You're not still thinking, are you, Drake?" Miss Sheehan asked.

"I give up," Drake replied theatrically.

"Perhaps as you're writing what you have something else might come to you?" Miss Sheehan suggested with an encouraging smile.

"Okay," Drake agreed.

He watched his teacher return to her desk. Again, she wasn't paying attention to what either of the children were doing while she shuffled through parchments, making notes here and there, and she hadn't noticed that her wand wasn't where she'd left it.

Drake carefully replaced his quill for the wand and held it to the wild-fire whiz bang. "_Incendio_," he whispered.

The tip of the wand glowed weakly, but it wasn't enough to light the fuse. He grumbled to himself.

"Drake!" Angel whispered. "Drake!"

His eyes slipped to his left.

"If you do that in here you'll get in trouble," Angel said in an urgent low voice.

Drake rolled his eyes and returned to the task at hand. This time he concentrated on visualizing the fuse coming to life. "_Incendio_."

The tip of the wand glowed a little brighter this time, and it encouraged Drake to try again straight away.

"_Incendio_!"

Bright light shot from the tip of the wand and the fuse suddenly began hissing as it came to life.

"Drake!" Miss Sheehan shrieked.

He didn't have time to respond to his teacher's warning as the fuse was burning rapidly towards his fingers. Without thinking, Drake opened his desk drawer and shoved the now burning wild-fire whiz bang inside along with Miss Sheehan's wand.

"What did you put in your drawer?" Miss Sheehan demanded.

"Nothing," Drake answered quickly. He cringed as a small explosion rocked his desk.

"Drake, I need to know so I can fix it," Miss Sheehan pleaded in a panicked tone.

"Nothing," Drake maintained.

"Move away from your desk," Miss Sheehan ordered. "Angel, you'd best move as well. Where is my wand?"

"Don't know," Drake responded.

The tutor turned on her small charge. "Drake, where is my wand?"

The little blond leveled a glare at his teacher. "I don't know."

"Drake, I need—" Miss Sheehan released a small scream as something inside Drake's desk made a loud bang. "Move away now! Go into the corridor."

Angel was already on her way out the door before Drake started to move. The last explosion had scared him a little and he was beginning to worry that his desk might not hold up under the stress of so many explosions.

"Drake, hurry!" Miss Sheehan urged. "Angel, do you know where my wand is?"

The little girl shook her head, but her eyes went directly to the desk that sounded like it was about to blow apart.

"Oh no," Miss Sheehan breathed more than articulated. "No!"

The children watched from the doorway as their tutor approached the desk that was now visibly jumping and rocking. Angel was shaking a little and looked quite pale. Drake, on the other hand, had a spark of excitement in his eyes.

Miss Sheehan placed her hand on the drawer handle and closed her eyes for just a moment before flinging the drawer open. She screamed in terror as the room came to life with color. A dragon shaped firework soared through the air, and began swooping at the frightened woman immediately. With every attack it shrieked, causing small explosions that sent a rainbow of colors into the air. She sank to the floor, pulling the drawer down with her. As the drawer hit the floor some of its contents bounced out of its confines, including her wand. The woman dove across the floor and grabbed for her wand, knocking an oddly shaped brown ball out of the way and sending it careening across the floor.

Engulfed by her panic, Miss Sheehan didn't pay any attention to anything else on the floor; her focus was on eliminating the fireworks. With her wand now in hand, the disheveled woman stood up and took aim. "_Evanesco_."

Rather than clearing the air, there were suddenly more fireworks careening around the room, swooping at her head and shrieking as they did so.

"_Evanesco_," Miss Sheehan screamed with her wand pointed at the largest of the firework dragons. "_Evanesco_."

The air was now thick with bright colors as the fireworks multiplied each time they were hit with the spell. Miss Sheehan screamed loudly as several of them swooped down on her. She ran for the doorway, almost knocking the children over as she crossed the threshold.

"How do we stop them?" Miss Sheehan demanded as the classroom door slammed closed behind her.

Drake smirked. "Don't know."

She ran her hands through her hair. "I can't do this," she muttered to herself.

"Are you all right, Miss Sheehan?" Angel inquired.

"No. No, I'm not all right, Angel," Miss Sheehan admitted angrily. "Once again your brother has managed to totally disrupt lessons."

The twins exchanged a glance. Angel's eyes were accusing, while Drake's were smug.

"I'm going to try and get the fireworks to stop moving," Miss Sheehan decided. "If we can get that to happen we might be able to remove them by hand."

The woman stepped up to the doorway, opened the door cautiously and brought her wand up. "_Stupefy_."

A window-rattling explosion almost deafened them when the spell hit several of the fireworks.

"It's not working!" Miss Sheehan wailed. "I don't know how to stop them! I can't do this anymore. I just can't!"

The glint of excitement in Drake's eyes was suddenly replaced with fear as his tutor sagged against the wall. The woman's hair was sticking up in every direction and her face was smudged with dirt, not that it hid how pale she looked at the moment. He hardly even registered a light pop further down the corridor.

"Mistress did send Millie," the house elf started.

"Oh, Millie, Drake set fireworks off in the classroom," Miss Sheehan explained in a hysterical pitch. "I can't get them to go away. Everything I've tried just makes it worse."

"Millie did say Little Master was going to find himself trouble again," Millie muttered to herself. "Millie will fetch Mistress. Miss Angel and Master Drake should go to the playroom."

"Yes, of course. Go to the playroom while we get this cleaned up," Miss Sheehan repeated in a shaky voice. "I'll wait here," she finished weakly.

"Millie will be right back," the servant assured her.

"Thank you," Miss Sheehan responded. "Off you go, Drake and Angel. Straight to the playroom."

Drake frowned a little, disappointed that he wasn't going to be around to watch the fireworks. He couldn't ignore the insistent pull of his sister's hand on his as she tried to escape the scene.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Draco looked up from the file he was perusing when a loud knock disturbed his train of thought. He was about to tell whomever it was at the door to enter when the door swung open.

"Father, what can I do for you?" Draco noted a small movement behind his father's cloak.

"It seems we are required at home," Lucius informed him seriously.

"What's happened?" Draco asked as he stood up.

"Ippy was sent to fetch us." Lucius looked to his cloak hem. "Apparently, your son has seen fit to disturb lessons yet again."

"Fuck!" Draco cursed through his teeth. "What has he done this time?"

"He set off fireworks in the classroom, allegedly," Lucius answered.

"Fireworks?" Draco felt as though someone had punched him in the stomach. How his son could do such a thing after all they'd been through since Friday evening was beyond him.

"Your mother thought it pertinent that we attend the scene immediately rather than wait until this afternoon," Lucius continued.

"Of course," Draco uttered. "You don't have to—"

"On the contrary," Lucius interrupted. "Ippy tells me there is an issue with containing the fireworks."

Draco cursed under his breath. "Fine. Let's go, shall we?"

There wasn't much time to curse or berate himself for not dealing with Drake properly before they arrived in the foyer of Malfoy Manor. While everything appeared to be quite normal on their arrival it only took seconds for the sound of an explosion to reach their ears. Without waiting to see what his father was doing, Draco took off at a sprint for the classroom.

Chaotic was the best description of the scene that greeted him. There were at least half a dozen house elves in the room, along with Ginny, his mother and Miss Sheehan, who seemed to be doing nothing more than shrieking unintelligibly at everyone. As he assessed the situation, he saw a house elf try to use magic against a huge firework dragon and watched as that firework dragon exploded into ten dragons. Terror gripped him as the new firework dragons started to swoop the occupants of the room.

"Get out! Everyone, get out!" Draco bellowed above the roar of the fireworks. "Stop using magic! Ginny, get out!"

Fear curled and hissed in his stomach as he watched a malevolent firework dragon swoop down on his pregnant wife. Even as he raced across the room he watched her hand come up and collide with the burning fireworks. Her cry of pain tore through him like a knife.

"Ginny, love," Draco crooned when he reached her. "Watch your hand. Are you hurt anywhere else?"

"No. It's just my hand." She grimaced as her skin began to blister.

"I'm going to get you out of here," Draco said as he scooped her into his arms.

It was a round about trip back to the door as he dodged fireworks all the way, but they made it out without further incident. Just as he placed Ginny on her feet his father came rushing down the corridor.

"Father, make sure she stays with you," Draco instructed as he turned to enter the classroom again.

From just inside the doorway, he spied the other two women. His mother was behind the large teacher's desk at the head of the room and the tutor was cowering under Angel's desk. Draco sprinted to his daughter's desk and grabbed the tutor by the arm.

"Come on," Draco ordered. "Get out!"

When he was sure she was moving in the right direction, Draco turned in the direction of his mother. He couldn't see her from this angle, so he could do nothing more than hope she was still behind the desk. As he reached the desk a firework dragon shrieked and swooped down on him. Draco leapt onto the desk and slid across, sending papers and quills everywhere. His landing was less than graceful, and his backside screamed in pain when it landed on a rather pointy quill tip.

"Draco!" Narcissa cried.

He was on his feet instantly, looking around in a panic for his mother instantly. She was holed up in the chair recess, thankfully. "Let's get out of here," Draco said simply as he picked his mother up. "Hold on, Mother."

The door seemed a mile away with his mother in his arms and fireworks intent on scalping him at every opportunity. It didn't help that his mother was screaming right into his ear every time a firework dragon got within ten feet of them. If his nerves survived this mess, he doubted his hearing would.

"Narcissa! Are you all right? Are you injured?" Lucius took his wife from his son's arms and set her on her feet.

"I'm fine," Narcissa assured him. "Just a little shaken."

"What on earth were you doing in there?" Lucius asked, concern tainting his tone.

"Ginevra went in and—"

"Ginny, where are the twins?" Draco interrupted.

"They're in the playroom," Ginny responded.

"Why were you in there then?" Draco asked.

"I was trying to stop the fireworks," Ginny admitted.

"You—" Draco hands ran through his hair in frustration. "You could have been _hurt_!"

"I had to—"

"What am I saying? You were hurt!" Draco cut her off. "Mother, can you summon Healer Wilson and Ellen. She needs to—"

"Draco, I don't need Ellen," Ginny interrupted.

"Mother, please?" Draco said firmly.

"Of course, darling," Narcissa replied.

Draco held Ginny's shoulders until his mother had disappeared down the corridor to make the Floo calls he'd requested. "You're going to get checked out whether you want to or not."

"Fine," Ginny conceded.

"I don't understand why you went in there," Draco growled lightly as he pulled Ginny to his chest. "The children were already out."

"Perhaps this could wait until after this situation is under control," Lucius suggested.

"Yes, of course," Draco replied. "I want you to join Mother, and perhaps you could take Miss Sheehan with you," he said to Ginny.

"Be careful," Ginny pleaded.

"We will," Draco assured her. "Now go! I'm not doing anything until you're away from here."

"All right, but remember that magic doesn't work on them," Ginny said.

"We'll figure something out," Draco promised.

"Magic doesn't work?" Lucius questioned.

"No," Ginny answered. "Stunning them makes them explode violently and any attempt at vanishing them makes them multiply by ten at a time."

Lucius cursed brusquely. "My apologies, Ginevra," he intoned when he had finished.

"Don't worry about it," Ginny responded. "I was saying that quite a bit when I was in there."

"Are we done here?" Draco asked impatiently. "Ginny, go!"

"All right, I'm going," Ginny answered. "Clare, why don't you come with me?"

The tutor nodded weakly from her position against the wall.

"Have Wilson check Miss Sheehan for injuries as well," Draco whispered to his wife, after noticing for the first time how pale and shaken the tutor appeared.

"Come on, Clare," Ginny coaxed. "I think we could both do with a cup of tea."

When the women had left the corridor Draco expelled a breath he hadn't quite realized he was holding.

"Are all the servants out of there?" Lucius asked.

"Yes, they listened to me when I gave the order," Draco replied. "Unlike the women."

"Where would Drake have—"

"I don't know," Draco snapped. "But I've seen these fireworks before— at Hogwarts, and I know who developed them."

"Do I want to know?"

"Probably not, but it'll help you understand what we're dealing with," Draco admitted.

"Well?"

"Fred and George Weasley made these," Draco said flatly.

"Of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes?"

"That's them." Draco ran a hand through his hair. "Which means they're probably impossible to stop."

Lucius wandered to the door and cracked it open. The devastation in the room made his blood boil, but he would allow his anger to vent later. For now they had a problem to solve before anyone else was injured. "Perhaps we could open the windows?"

"Do you want to go in there?" Draco asked. "Those fireworks are dangerous."

Both men stared into the room for a few minutes.

"What if we blasted the windows out from here?" Draco suggested.

"The idea has merit," Lucius admitted.

"We can easily repair the windows later," Draco continued.

"That's if the fireworks take the exit," Lucius pointed out.

"I don't think there are any other options at this point," Draco said. "I remember the professors at Hogwarts having a devil of time controlling them. They were running riot across the grounds all night."

"Very well," Lucius uttered. "We'll try to evacuate them through the windows."

"Right," Draco said as he drew his wand and pointed it in the direction of the windows on the opposite wall.

"Wait!" Lucius put his hand on his son's wand and pushed it down. "What will happen if they're hit with the magic?"

"I have no idea."

"Best we be prepared for the worst then," Lucius muttered. "You take care of the windows, and I'll watch for any change in the fireworks."

Draco nodded and took aim again. "_Confringo_."

The first blasting curse passed between the fireworks and shattered one of the windows.

"Well done," Lucius muttered.

"_Confringo_," Draco incanted for a second time.

This time he wasn't so lucky. The curse collided with several fireworks on its way to the window, and as expected the effect was unfavorable. It was impossible to count how many fireworks were now in the room, because the blasting curse had literally caused the fireworks to explode into hundreds of separate, very live, fireworks. Now there was little chance of repeating his first effort and getting a clear shot at the remaining windows.

"Do we continue?" Draco inquired.

"I feel we have little choice at this juncture," Lucius responded. "To leave them in here may endanger the entire house."

Draco took a deep breath and then took careful aim. He waited a few moments, hoping to time the incantation perfectly, before sending the curse into the room again. Again, it collided with several fireworks before passing through his original target.

"Just get all the windows open quickly, Draco," Lucius instructed when Draco hesitated.

"Fine," Draco ground out. He sent the curse into the room another three times, each time hitting several fireworks and creating hundreds more.

They watched from the doorway as some of the fireworks began to fly out of the broken windows. It was a slow process, and there was no reason to hope that it would clear the room entirely, but it was the best they could do for now.

"Do we know if they were all contained in here?" Lucius asked curiously.

"I don't know," Draco replied. "I didn't think to ask."

"Ippy!" Lucius summoned.

"Master did—"

"Have the house elves search the house for fireworks," Lucius ordered. "If any are found we are to be informed immediately. No action is to be taken without our explicit consent. Understand?"

"As Master wishes." Ippy bowed low.

"Tell one of the young kitchen servants to take up a post outside the windows of the classroom and alert me if the fireworks are likely to cause any further damage to the house," Draco added.

"As Master wishes."

"Dismissed," Draco ordered, when the house elf glanced at his father for confirmation.

Draco reached into the classroom and pulled the door closed. "I need to check on Ginny."

"That burn on her hand looked quite nasty," Lucius muttered.

Without replying, Draco started down the corridor. First he would make sure the women were all right, and then he was going to interrogate his son.

"You're going to have to do something about Drake's—"

"I know," Draco snapped, effectively cutting his father short. He hoped this was all some sort of sick nightmare, but he knew it wasn't, and he knew he'd have to respond strongly after this last bout of mischief.

"Perhaps discovering where he came across the contraband would be a good start?" Lucius suggested gently.

Draco grunted impatiently.

"The servants are a wealth of information," Lucius continued. "They can't lie to _you_."

A derisive snort filled the air. Draco knew very well how much the servants lied, especially when protecting the youngest members of the family. His own father was unaware of all the mischief he found himself in as a youngster thanks to Millie. "They can and they do, and you know it."

Lucius sighed and shook his head. "You have not found yourself a trusted informant yet."

Draco stopped and turned to face his father. "Father, I am well aware that Ippy worships the ground you walk on, but I do not need or crave that sort of attention. I simply need them to do their jobs."

"Ah, but this is where you are misinformed. Perhaps if you had an Ippy to keep you up to date on events at home while you are not here, this incident could have been avoided before Drake had the opportunity to destroy the classroom."

"So I should have one of the servants telling tales on everyone in the house?" Draco snarled.

"It's more akin to averting disasters," Lucius corrected.

Draco shook his head and stalked down the corridor. He never did like Ippy and now he knew exactly why; the horrid creature was probably still running to his father telling tales on him. "Millie!"

"Master did summon—"

"Where might I find my wife?"

"Mistress is being with old Mistress in the northern parlor for summer," Millie answered, as she tried to keep up with her master's long strides.

"Stay with the children unless I summon you," Draco instructed.

"As Master wishes."

Before Millie disappeared. Draco had put just a little more speed into his stride. Now that he had a certain destination he just wanted to get there and make sure his wife was all right. What started as a need to see that Ginny was all right started to turn to desperation, and he was still quite a distance away.

"To hell with it," Draco uttered as he turned mid-stride and Disapparated.

He consciously arrived just outside the parlor, so he wouldn't startle any of the women inside. Voices floated out the door, along with the sound of weeping. His heart lurched. _Ginny!_

It took Draco a second to put the scene together when he burst through the doors. Healer Wilson was attending Ginny's hand; his mother was sitting on a love seat next to Miss Sheehan, who was weeping vociferously into her hands. Narcissa was doing her best to comfort the younger woman, but it seemed her efforts were all for naught.

"Ah, Draco, I was wondering where you were," Healer Wilson expressed.

A frown creased Draco's forehead. "Excuse me?"

"You're never far away when your lovely wife needs you," Wilson explained with a broad smile.

"Oh—" Draco shook his head a little to clear his thoughts. "How is she?"

"Mrs. Malfoy has quite a painful second degree burn."

"What does that mean?"

"It means, it's a painful burn, but it will heal nicely and, hopefully, without scarring, if she follows my instructions." Healer Wilson smiled meaningfully at Ginny.

"I'm fine, Draco," Ginny assured him. "It's just a little burn."

Draco's eyebrow climbed his forehead as his wife grimaced the moment the words were out of her mouth. "Fine are you? I beg to differ."

"It's just when—" Ginny paused to suck a breath in through her teeth as the healer wound a white bandage around her hand. "—someone is touching it."

"My apologies, Mrs. Malfoy, but we must dress it to keep it clean," Healer Wilson intoned seriously.

"It's all right," Ginny replied. "I understand."

"It's a shame that understanding doesn't come with a little pain relief," Draco muttered.

"On the contrary," Wilson announced. "I have administered a potion for pain relief, but given Mrs. Malfoy's delicate condition there are limited options in that field of potions. Your mother told me that her Mid-witch has been summoned as well."

"Yes, she has," Draco responded.

"Perhaps she might be able to suggest something a little more effective for pain relief," Wilson suggested.

Draco nodded. "I'll make a point to ask her."

"With all the advances in potions these days, she should be up to date on what her patients can safely ingest." Healer Wilson turned to his medical bag and after a little rifling he pulled out a sheet of parchment. "This is for you," he said, handing the parchment to Ginny.

"Thank you."

"Follow the instructions on this sheet, and I'll be back tomorrow evening to change your dressing," Wilson said. "Until then, you're to leave it on."

"I will," Ginny promised.

"I'll be off then," Wilson announced.

"Did you examine Miss Sheehan?" Draco asked quickly.

"Yes," Wilson answered. "She's just very shaken. I suggest a stiff brandy to help her settle down. Your mother is also in good health."

"Thank you," Draco intoned. "I'll see you out."

"No need." Wilson waved the offer away. "I know the way, and I'm sure you want to be with your wife."

Draco smiled graciously. It was true; he didn't want to leave the parlor for any reason right now, and he appreciated the healer's understanding.

As Wilson walked through the door on his way out, Lucius entered. The two men nodded politely to each other as they crossed paths before continuing on their respective routes.

"Narcissa," Lucius expressed with concern as he crossed the room.

"Oh, Lucius, I'm fine. It's Ginevra who was injured," Narcissa said.

"Mother when is Ellen coming?" Draco inquired.

"Her office said that she was currently at St. Mungo's and they'd give her the message as soon as she returned," Narcissa informed him.

"Draco, it's really not necessary for Ellen to come—" Ginny tried.

"She's coming and you're getting checked out," Draco butted in. "Besides, she'll know what pain potions you can have."

"I'm fine," Ginny insisted. "It's just a little burn. There are only a couple of blisters."

"And I suppose the faces you were pulling when Wilson was bandaging it were just a put on?" Draco countered.

Ginny opened her mouth to respond, but closed it after a little thought.

"I thought so," Draco uttered as he crossed the room to the sidebar. "Mother, do you have any brandy here?"

"There should be a decanter to the back of the shelf," Narcissa answered.

"Here it is." Draco picked the decanter up and poured a generous amount into a tumbler.

"A little early in the day, isn't it?" Lucius questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"After the morning we've had, I think not, but despite that, it's not for me," Draco admitted. "Wilson suggested brandy to calm Miss Sheehan down."

"I see," Lucius drawled.

"Miss Sheehan." Draco offered the tumbler to the upset woman. "Mother, perhaps you could convince—"

Narcissa took the tumbler. "I'll take care of it," she promised.

"I will need to talk to you, Miss Sheehan, but I would like to do it when you've calmed down," Draco said gently.

"I—I can't—do this—anymore," Clare stammered through her tears.

Alarm bells started ringing in Draco's head. He didn't like what he heard, but he consoled himself with the knowledge that she was very upset at the moment. "We can discuss this when you're a little calmer."

The tutor shook her head furiously. "No, I can't do it."

"There's little to be gained from making rash decisions," Draco said quietly.

"Enough now," Narcissa interrupted before Clare could speak again. "Sip this slowly, Miss Sheehan, and you'll be feeling calm enough to talk properly in no time."

"It's—fine—I—can—"

"Nonsense," Narcissa cut in. "There's no hurry. Draco, why don't you check on Ginevra? Perhaps she'd like a cup of tea?"

"Of course, Mother," Draco replied, noting the loaded looked she sent him.

When he turned to face his wife again, she had a curious smile on her face. It was the last thing he expected to see given what he'd just heard come from their tutor's mouth. Draco returned her smile with a tight one of his own as he crossed the floor again.

"So sweet," Ginny whispered, as Draco sat down next to her.

Draco frowned. "What?"

"To see you do as your mummy says," Ginny teased.

"One would think, given the situation, that you might find it in yourself to be serious, Ginevra," Draco hissed irritably.

"Oooh… I think I'm in trouble," Ginny taunted quietly.

"Did you hear what _she_ said? If I've interpreted it correctly, she wants to _leave_," Draco said in a low tone.

"She's upset at the moment." Ginny reached for his hand with her good hand. "Once she's calmed down she'll see things more clearly."

"I hope so," Draco muttered.

"A cup of tea would be nice," Ginny hinted.

"No problem." Draco summoned a house elf and ordered a tea tray.

"Are the fireworks out of the classroom?" Ginny asked.

"I don't know," Draco confessed. "I suppose I should check on that soon."

Ginny turned in the chair to face her husband. "What do you mean, you don't know? You left them in there?"

Draco smirked. "I opened the windows, so they could escape into the great outdoors."

"I don't think the windows open very wide in that room," Ginny mused aloud.

"They do now." Draco quirked his eyebrows at her.

"What did you do?"

"Well, basically we blew all the windows out, so there's just about an entire wall for them to find an escape," Draco admitted.

"Good grief," Ginny moaned.

"We'll fix them when they've evacuated," Draco said casually. "That's really the least of our worries at the moment."

Ginny sighed heavily. "What are we going to do about Drake?"

"I'm not entirely sure yet," Draco answered wearily. "I need to get the full story from Miss Sheehan first. I'm hoping she might be able to shed some light on where he got the fireworks from in the first place."

"She wouldn't have had them in the classroom, and even if she did, she wouldn't have allowed them to be activated in there," Ginny pointed out.

"I didn't think she was responsible for supplying them, but perhaps she saw something that might help us," Draco corrected.

"Millie might have seen something," Ginny proposed.

Draco snorted. "Millie won't give Drake up."

"Maybe one of the other house elves saw something then?"

"It's possible," Draco muttered. "Of course, he could have already had them and just brought them to the classroom."

"You took him to class this morning," Ginny reminded him.

"I didn't see anything. I'm sure he didn't have them in his pockets." Draco frowned as he thought back to first thing this morning.

"He could have already had them in his desk," Ginny suggested.

"It's possible," Draco agreed. "We'll work it out."

"Perhaps I should check on the children," Lucius suggested suddenly.

"No." Draco shook his head. "I want to collect all the information first, and then I'll deal with them."

"Surely you don't think Angelique had anything to do—"

"Father, I don't know if she had anything to do with it yet, but I want to be fully informed before I confront them, and until then I'd appreciate it if you'd keep your distance."

"Very well." Lucius sighed. "They could be quite shaken," he added lazily.

"Millie is with them," Draco growled. "She will alert us to any distress."

"When do you propose—"

"After I have spoken the Miss Sheehan, I will speak to the twins."

Lucius looked over to the love seat, where his wife sat with the distraught tutor. Irritation was written all over his expression. He turned back to his son. "We should insist—"

"Father, if you're in such a hurry, perhaps you could assist Mother in calming Miss Sheehan down?" Draco smirked.

The older wizard stared back at his son, clearly horrified by the suggestion.

"She must be crying acid tears if they're that frightening," Ginny whispered with a giggle.

"Why is it that your wife finds all this amusing?" Lucius snapped.

"Laugh or cry, Lucius," Ginny answered for Draco. "I'm choosing to laugh right now. Besides I grew up with my twin brothers doing this sort of thing all the time."

"Ridiculous," Lucius hissed under his breath.

His reaction only caused Ginny to giggle more.

"If you don't stop he's going to lose his temper," Draco whispered hurriedly.

"Fine, I'll try to control myself," Ginny returned softly.

A house elf appeared in the doorway, startling everyone in the room. "Master, we has a—"

"Ellen!" Ginny said as her Mid-witch came into view. "Come in."

"I received a rather urgent message about an accident," Ellen said, ignoring the other occupants.

"I'm fine," Ginny insisted. "Draco's overreacting."

"I'll be the judge of that," Ellen stated, affording Draco a small smile.

"There was an incident with fireworks," Draco offered.

"Goodness!" Ellen's hand came to her chest. "And I suppose Ginny decided to get too close."

"She entered the room they were trapped in and earned herself a burned hand for her trouble," Draco confirmed.

"Right, let's get you checked out then," Ellen said forcefully. "Is there somewhere private—"

"Yes, we'll go upstairs," Ginny said as she got to her feet with Draco's assistance.

"You've had the burn treated?" Ellen asked, noting the white bandage.

"Yes, Healer Wilson left just a little while ago," Ginny answered as she led the woman out of the parlor.

"Mother," Draco whispered. "Could you ensure Miss Sheehan is ready to talk when we return? I think she's had long enough now."

"Of course, darling," Narcissa replied.

He followed the two women upstairs with half an ear on their conversation. His thoughts were once again consumed with the dilemma ahead of him. It was impossible to act until he had the facts from Miss Sheehan, but that was certainly going to be easier if she were calm and ready to talk about what happened. _Perhaps impossible isn't quite the right term, _he thought to himself as he trailed behind. _I could confront Drake now and hope he tells the truth._ The idea wasn't appealing. Chances were that Drake would deny everything and without some background information Draco would be in a difficult situation.

"Just lie on the bed and we'll have a look at what's going on," Ellen instructed as they reached the bedroom.

"I'm fine," Ginny insisted. "It was only the burn."

"It doesn't hurt to confirm that," Ellen advised her with a patient smile.

Draco stopped just inside the room and watched the Mid-witch examine his wife. He noticed that she moved confidently and didn't mutter to herself like Wilson was prone to do from time to time.

"All right, you can sit up, Ginny," Ellen said with a smile.

"I told you I was fine," Ginny reiterated.

"You don't have any pain anywhere?" Ellen questioned.

"No, except for my hand," Ginny answered.

Ellen nodded thoughtfully. "All right, I'm happy to give you a clean bill of health for now, but if anything should start to feel odd or painful you're to contact me right away. Sometimes these things take time to manifest themselves. At the moment you've probably still got a fair amount of adrenalin flowing through your system, so that might be masking any aches or pains."

"I wish it would mask the pain in my hand," Ginny muttered.

"Wilson said you might be able to suggest a stronger potion for pain relief," Draco interrupted.

"What did he give you?" Ellen asked Ginny.

"Here." Ginny pulled a small bottle from her pocket and offered it to the woman.

"Mmm…" Ellen grimaced a little. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but this is as good as it's going to get."

"There's nothing stronger?" Draco questioned brusquely.

"I'm afraid not," Ellen returned gently. "We have to take the unborn child into consideration and anything stronger may affect—"

"It's all right," Ginny cut in. "I'm sure I'm tough enough to handle it for a couple of days."

"There's far worse to come," Ellen reminded her.

"I'm trying not to think about that right now," Ginny confessed.

"Worse? What could be worse than the pain she's in now?" Draco asked, mild panic tainting his tone.

"Childbirth," Ginny answered simply.

Draco frowned as the word sunk in. He had heard that childbirth was painful, but he hadn't really thought about it in depth. "Oh."

"I really have to get back to the office." Ellen gave her a reassuring smile. "You'll be fine, but if anything else should start aching let me know right away."

"I will," Ginny promised. "Thank you for coming."

"You're welcome," Ellen answered.

"I'll walk you out," Ginny offered.

"You keep taking good care of her, Draco," Ellen said on her way out.

"I will," Draco muttered.

His thoughts had traveled to a point not too far in the future and how Ginny might cope with the pain then. Though she seemed fine at the moment, she had admitted that she was trying not to think about the birth. _Did it hurt that much?_ He would have to do a little research to put his mind at ease, because there were so many old witches tales floating around that it was difficult to know what to believe. Oblivious to the women's conversation now, Draco trailed behind as they returned to the foyer.

Before he knew what had happened Ginny was standing in front of him with a worried expression on her face.

"Are you all right?" Ginny questioned.

"Yes, I'm fine," Draco answered. "Did Ellen leave?"

"You said goodbye and held the door for her," Ginny replied. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"I must have been a million miles away," Draco admitted lightly. "I'm sure Mother and Father are eager to know that you're all right. Shall we?"

"Sure," Ginny agreed cautiously as she took her husband's arm.

As they approached the parlor doors Draco was relieved that he couldn't hear any weeping coming from within the room. With luck, he'd be able to ascertain what had happened quickly and without any further drama.

"Mr. Malfoy," Miss Sheehan said the moment Draco walked into the parlor. "I'm sorry, but I simply can't do this anymore."

"Why don't we all take a seat?" Draco offered diplomatically. "I'm sure the situation won't seem nearly as desperate as it does now after we've talked."

The tutor shook her head. "I'm not going to change my mind."

"Very well," Draco said calmly. "I would still like to discuss what happened today."

"Of course." Miss Sheehan bowed her head for a moment. "I'm sure Drake didn't have anything at the start of the day, but his attitude changed after he came back from changing his clothes."

"Why did he change his clothes?" Draco asked.

"There was an incident with his quill," Miss Sheehan answered simply.

"And you sent him to change on his own?" Draco inquired.

"No. Millie accompanied him, but I don't remember seeing her when he returned." Miss Sheehan frowned.

"And it was then that his attitude changed?" Draco prodded.

"Not right away. He told me about his weekend for a writing exercise and while he was a little reluctant, he wasn't refusing to do the work. Once I had written out what he'd told me, I left him to copy the work and went to my desk. A little while later I noticed he was dawdling, so I gave him some gentle encouragement before I left the room briefly—"

Draco's eyes opened wide as he interrupted. "What did you leave the room for?"

"I needed to use the bathroom," Miss Sheehan explained. "I was out of the room for only a few minutes."

"Go on," Draco urged.

"A short time after I returned I heard Drake say '_Incendio_', and as I called his name, he put something in his desk drawer. He wouldn't tell me what it was, but I could hear explosions coming from the drawer, so I had the children move away from the desks. It was then that I noticed my wand was missing."

"Your wand?" Draco felt ill.

"Yes, I usually leave it on my desk, and I know it was there earlier," Miss Sheehan explained.

"What happened next?" Draco prompted.

"I sent the children into the corridor, and I asked Angel if she knew where my wand was."

"Did she?"

"I'm sure she did, but all she could do was look at the drawer." Miss Sheehan sighed. "I had no choice but to open the drawer."

"It didn't occur to you to seek help?" Draco questioned.

"I didn't feel I had time to seek help; the desk was moving by this point, so I felt it imperative to release whatever it was that Drake had stowed in there."

"I see."

"When I opened the drawer fireworks flew out." Miss Sheehan wrapped her arms around herself and shuddered. "I found my wand when the drawer spilled onto the floor."

"It was on the floor?" There was just a hint of hope in Draco's voice.

"No, it had been in the drawer."

Draco's hope bled away.

"With my wand back I tried to get rid of the fireworks, but all I managed to do was create more. I don't know who summoned Millie, but she was suddenly there, and then everyone else came."

"Thank you," Draco intoned quietly. "I promise you, I will get to the bottom of this, and Drake will be punished accordingly."

"I'm sure you will, Mr. Malfoy, but that won't change my mind. I think it's best for all concerned if I resign immediately."

"That saddens me greatly," Draco admitted. "I wish you would reconsider."

"I'm sorry, but I gave this a great deal of thought over the weekend, and I just don't feel as though I can continue at this point," Miss Sheehan explained.

"Very well." Draco sighed. "If there's nothing I can say or do to change your mind—"

"No, I'm truly sorry," Miss Sheehan said sadly.

"Well, that leaves us with when you'd like to finish," Draco said in a businesslike manner.

"After today's drama, I don't feel I can stay any longer. I will finish immediately."

"You can't!" Ginny interrupted in a panic.

"Mrs. Malfoy, I'm really—"

"The children love you," Ginny continued, cutting off the woman's apology.

"I hardly think Drake would use quite that term," Miss Sheehan uttered.

"He does," Ginny stressed. "It's the work he finds tedious. His attitude has nothing to do with you personally."

"Nevertheless, I don't feel I can continue," Miss Sheehan replied calmly. "The way things are I'm not doing the twins any good. They'd be far better off with someone else."

"I don't think—"

Miss Sheehan shook her head. "Mrs. Malfoy, I'm sorry."

"Ginny, let it go," Draco instructed gently. "Miss Sheehan has obviously made up her mind and, given the incident today, I don't think we can blame her."

"Okay, okay," Ginny expressed. "We will be very sorry to see you go, and the twins will be devastated."

"We won't keep you any longer," Draco said to the tutor. "Can I offer you the assistance of a servant while you pack?"

"Thank you, but I can manage." Miss Sheehan smiled.

"Have you left anything in the classroom that you need to pack?" Draco asked hoping the answer would be no, but knowing full well he wasn't going to be that lucky.

"Yes, I have several personal items in there. I would like to take them with me today, but if it's not possible I will understand," Miss Sheehan replied.

"We'll do our best to retrieve them before you leave," Ginny promised.

Draco tried to cover the horrified expression he could feel creeping onto his face, but he was only partially successful. How could Ginny promise such a thing?

"It's all right, Mr. Malfoy, if it's not possible I can collect them at a later date," Miss Sheehan offered with a smile.

"I'll let you know if we're successful," Draco said. "I'd appreciate it if you'd leave a forwarding address as well, so I can send your wages on."

"Of course." Miss Sheehan stood up, which brought the men in the room to their feet. "Thank you for the opportunity to teach your children. I'm sure you'll find someone very capable to take over."

"Thank you," Draco intoned.

"You're a wonderful tutor," Ginny said genuinely. "I hope you find another position."

"Thank you. Please tell the children I said goodbye," Miss Sheehan replied.

"You can tell them yourself, if you'd like," Ginny offered.

"Thank you, but no. I think it'll be easier this way." Miss Sheehan turned to Narcissa. "Your support and comfort this morning was most appreciated, Mrs. Malfoy."

"You're welcome," Narcissa responded politely.

"I'll be in my quarters if you should need me, and I'll let you know when I'm leaving," Miss Sheehan said to her employers.

Draco inclined his head politely as she walked away.

Silence consumed the room to the point where Draco's ears felt like they were humming, and then he exploded. "Bloody hell!"

"Draco!" Narcissa admonished.

"My apologies, Mother," Draco ground out. "I just can't believe she _quit_."

"I did tell you she wasn't a suitable candidate," Lucius murmured.

Draco turned his furious eyes to meet his father's smug ones. "Thank you, Father. I'm sure we're all well aware of who _you_ thought was a suitable candidate."

"I was merely—"

"I don't care," Draco snapped.

"Draco, it's all right," Ginny said softly. "I can teach the children—"

"We'll discuss it later," Draco interrupted. The last thing he needed was his father putting his two Knuts worth in as to who was most suitable to teach the children. "We'd better check on the classroom. If she's really leaving, then I'd rather she had all her possessions with her."

"Don't you want to talk to your son?" Lucius inquired.

"Not until I have an idea of just how much damage has been done," Draco answered. "Ginny, I think it would be better if you stayed with Mother for now."

"I'm all right," Ginny insisted.

"That may be, but we don't know what we're going to find, so I'd feel better if you'd stay here," Draco explained persuasively.

"Fine, I'll stay," Ginny agreed.

Draco leaned down and placed a soft kiss on Ginny's forehead. "We'll get this sorted out," he whispered.

He stalked through the corridors, fully aware that his father was following. While he appreciated the fact that he had some support if something should go wrong when he opened the classroom, he truly wasn't in the mood to listen to his father harp on about how he was right. Draco was relieved when he turned into the schoolroom corridor and all was silent. It boded well for the room being clear, but he didn't fully trust that it would be just on the lack of noise.

"It sounds somewhat calmer in there," Lucius commented as they stopped in front of the classroom.

"It does," Draco agreed. "Stand back, so I can open the door."

Lucius stood his ground, raising an eyebrow as if challenging his son.

"Father, I don't want anyone else being injured today."

"And you think—"

"If there are still fireworks in there— Well, I move faster than you."

"Very well," Lucius conceded, moving back about a foot.

Draco rolled his eyes and shook his head as he reached for the door. His hand felt a little sweaty on the brass doorknob, so he tightened his grip before he began turning the handle in a painfully slow fashion.

"Draco," Lucius hissed impatiently.

"I don't want to startle anything that might still be lurking in there," Draco ground out.

Inch by inch Draco pushed the door open. There didn't appear to be any danger in the room, but Draco wasn't willing to take any chances.

"Well?" Lucius prodded impatiently.

"So far, so good," Draco whispered.

"Why are we standing here then?"

"I want to be sure," Draco growled lightly.

"There is such a thing as being over-cautious."

"These are vicious, vindictive fireworks. I wouldn't be surprised if they were all hiding, just waiting for their next victim to walk into the room."

Lucius snorted indignantly. "They can hardly think for themselves."

"Don't be too sure," Draco warned. "They were developed by Ginny's brothers."

"Move aside!"

Draco stumbled as his father pushed past him. The door hit the wall with a resounding bang. "Father!"

"There's nothing—"

"Duck! Behind you!"

It was as if someone had slowed time down. Draco watched with increasing horror as a lone firework dragon rose from behind the tutor's desk, let out what sounded like a triumphant shriek, and dove for his father. He was running before he realized he was even in motion. His father was reacting painfully slowly, and all Draco could do was try to get to him before the dragon did.

Lucius jerked to the side just as the dragon dove on him, causing the firework to glance off his shoulder.

"Father!" Draco's heart was hammering so hard that he feared it would burst through his chest. "Are you all right? Don't move! Your robes are smoking!"

Whether Lucius heard him or not Draco couldn't tell, because he was simply reacting to the situation. He crashed into his father's back, sending him sprawling over the twins' desks. His hands beat at the smoldering fabric on Lucius' shoulder until his father's demands to be left alone penetrated his panicked mind.

"Have you taken leave of your senses?" Lucius hissed as he straightened himself up.

"Have you?" Draco returned harshly. "I told you! This is exactly what I was expecting!"

"We still needed to draw the thing out," Lucius pointed out.

"I'm sure I could have come up with a safer way of doing that," Draco spat, infuriated that his father wouldn't just admit that he was wrong. "One that didn't involve your robes being set on fire."

"Where did it go?" Lucius inquired casually.

Draco looked around quickly, terror curdling in his belly and rising up his throat. "I don't know."

"You go that way, and I'll go this way," Lucius suggested calmly.

Draco circled around the room. "Anything?"

"No," Lucius answered. "You?"

"Nothing."

"The room appears to be clear," Lucius said, sweeping the room again with his eyes.

"Fuck," Draco cursed.

"I hardly think—"

"We have no idea where it went," Draco snapped. "I left the door open."

Lucius blanched. "Ippy!"

"Master did—"

"Have there been any fireworks found in the house?" Lucius interrupted.

"We has found none," Ippy responded.

"Good. One may have just escaped into the house. Gather the servants and scour the house again, starting from here. Check everywhere!" Lucius ordered.

"As Master—"

"Go!" Lucius roared.

Draco wandered away from Lucius. His gaze was roaming aimlessly over the room or what was left of it. Destruction didn't really begin to cover what he was seeing. There were scorch marks everywhere, along with pieces of parchment and various other items scattered on the floor. Frustrated to the point of rage, Draco kicked a small brown ball that he found between his feet. The ball went flying across the room and crashed into the wall with an odd soggy sound. A frown deepened across Draco's brow as his eyes examined the area where the ball had landed. He took half a step toward the brown mark on the wall before he realized exactly what he'd done.

"Father, get out here!"

"The room is—" Lucius' face screwed up in disgust. "What is that smell?"

"I kicked a dungbomb," Draco called over his shoulder.

Once in the corridor again with the door safely closed behind them, Lucius looked at his son, regarding him seriously while they both tried to catch their breath.

"What on earth possessed you to kick a dungbomb?" Lucius snarled.

"I didn't know what it was until it hit the wall," Draco answered.

"Why was one in the classroom?"

"Why were the fireworks in the classroom?" Draco retorted.

"Perhaps now is the time to talk to Drake?" Lucius suggested.

Draco shook his head.

"You have to do it some time," Lucius said intolerantly.

"I know," Draco snapped. "I just don't have the patience to deal with him right now. Besides I need to work out where the fireworks came from first."

"Your wife's brothers likely supplied them," Lucius pointed out.

"They definitely came from their shop, but I need to know how Drake ended up with them. He didn't have anything in his pockets last night when we got home, and I'm sure he didn't have them beforehand."

Lucius nodded slowly. "The house elves would know when they came into the house."

"Father, was Millie your nanny as a child?"

"Yes, she was." Lucius smiled fondly. "The secrets that house elf could tell."

"Precisely," Draco uttered. "She did the same for me, and I know she's doing the same for the twins."

"If you push her the right way she'll tell you what you want to know," Lucius advised.

"I don't think so," Draco responded. "She protects the children of Malfoy Manor with a passion that can't be compared—"

"Then threaten her with clothes," Lucius snarled. "You're too soft!"

"Threaten Millie?" Draco almost choked. "I couldn't— Not her."

"You need the information," Lucius pushed.

"And she won't give it to me, no matter what I threaten her with," Draco expressed wearily. "There has to be another way."

"Trick her into giving you the information," Lucius suggested. "Don't ask the direct question."

"She'll still protect him."

"A little information can go a long way to opening little boys' mouths," Lucius mused aloud. "I ought to know; it's how I managed to catch you out many times."

"I suppose that's my only option at this point," Draco mumbled. "I'll be in my study."

"I could sit in if you—"

"No, thank you, Father, but I need to handle this on my own," Draco responded. "Perhaps you could get a couple of servants to start cleaning the classroom? I would like to locate Miss Sheehan's possessions before she leaves."

"Of course," Lucius replied.

Draco strolled to his study, in no particular hurry to start dealing with the mess that his son had created. Without all the information he had a viable excuse not to talk to Drake yet, but he knew, once he'd spoken to Millie, he would lose that excuse.

His office was dark and comforting. The rich, familiar smell of his leather chair filled his senses as he sank into it. After a few minutes a sense of peace flowed through him and he felt capable of dealing with anything. How he would deal with it was another matter entirely, because he still didn't know, but he felt a successful resolution wasn't out of reach or beyond his ability.

"Millie!" Draco summoned.

The house elf appeared before his desk. "Master did summon Millie?"

"I need to know what happened this morning," Draco said calmly.

"Millie has left Little Master Drake and Miss Angel alone," the servant claimed nervously, half turning towards the door.

"Tell me about this morning, Millie," Draco said softly. "The children will be fine for a few minutes."

The house elf looked panicked for a moment, but managed to settle herself. "Millie did help Little Master Drake and Miss Angel with their breakfast—"

"No, start after I left for the office," Draco interrupted.

"Millie did clean for Little Master Drake and Miss Angel," the servant stated.

"Did anything unusual disrupt your morning?" Draco asked carefully.

"Millie did clean the ink in the schoolroom."

"Mmm… And did you help Drake change his clothes?"

"Millie did help Little Master Drake get clean."

Draco nodded thoughtfully. "Were you with Drake the whole time he was out of the classroom?"

The house elf nodded.

"Did Drake take anything extra back to the classroom?" Draco had to consciously hold back the smirk that wanted to tug his lips up as the elderly house elf started to fidget. He allowed her a few moments to wring her hands. "Well?"

"A package arrived for Little Master Drake while he was getting clean," Millie admitted.

"What was in the package?"

"Millie did not look."

"Who was it from?"

"Millie does not know," the servant answered as she averted her gaze.

Draco allowed the smirk that had been wanting to take up residence on his face to show itself at last as the lie slipped off her tongue. "Do you think it might have been from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes?"

"Millie does not know," Millie responded with a shake of her head. "There was no Weasleys' Wizards on the box."

"Who brought the box to Drake?"

Again the servant started wringing her hands violently.

"Millie?" Draco prompted. "Tell me who delivered the box."

"Ippy," Millie whispered in a pained voice.

"I see," Draco drawled. "Return to your duties."

"Ippy did not see—"

"Return to your duties, Millie," Draco repeated sternly. "And you're forbidden from punishing yourself."

Millie gave him a tortured look before she Disapparated. He knew it was cruel to forbid her to punish herself for failing to keep Drake's secret, but he also knew that Ginny would punish him if Millie turned up injured at any point. Far better the servant to be in pain than him.

"Ippy!" Draco called.

"Master did summon Ippy?" Ippy asked as he arrived in front of Draco's desk.

"Tell me about the parcel that arrived for Drake this morning," Draco requested.

"It was a box," Ippy answered simply.

"Yes, I know that," Draco replied patiently. "Who delivered it?"

"Owls."

"Could you tell where it came from?"

"There was nothing on the box."

"How did you know it was for Drake?"

"Master Drake's name was on the box."

"Nothing else?"

"No."

"Where was Drake when you gave it to him?"

"Master Drake was in the bathroom."

"The bathroom?" Draco's eyebrows climbed his forehead in surprise. "Which bathroom?"

"The bathroom near the schoolroom."

"Who was with him?"

"Millie."

"Did you see what was in the box?"

"Master Drake ordered Ippy to give the box to Millie and leave," Ippy informed him.

"Return to your duties," Draco mumbled.

Draco didn't notice the pop of Disapparation as Ippy left his study; he was too deep in thought to allow such a mundane sound to bother him at the moment. He was positive that Ippy had told the truth. Millie, on the other hand, had manipulated the truth at least a couple of times, not to mention had lied to his face to protect Drake. He sat back in his chair pondering all that he'd just learned. There was no question of Drake's guilt and no explaining away his actions. From everything he'd heard this morning, Drake had acted deliberately to upset the classroom. It was conceivable that the five-year-old had no perception of the repercussions, but his behavior was still inexcusable. All of a sudden Draco sat forward in his chair, panic sparking uncomfortably in his stomach as he realized he was missing a vital piece of evidence.

"Millie!" Draco boomed.

"Master did—"

"Where is the box Drake received?"

"Millie does not—"

Draco stood up and moved around the desk to stand over the small servant. "You were the last one with him. I know he didn't carry the box into the classroom; so he either left it in the bathroom where it was delivered or you did something with it under his instruction."

The house elf began wringing her hands nervously. "Millie does not want Little Master to get into trouble."

"Drake is already in more trouble than he can imagine. I need to see the box, just in case there are more fireworks in there. I'm trying to keep him out of trouble in the future. He could have burned the house down, Millie." Though his tone was even, Draco was fast running out of patience with the overprotective house elf.

"Little Master Drake told Millie to put it where his broom is usually," Millie admitted. "Millie did not look inside."

"Return to your duties," Draco snapped.

"Little Master Drake is sorry for the commotion he caused," Millie muttered.

"He's going to be a lot sorrier by the time I get through with him," Draco growled. "Leave!"

Rather than sit down again, Draco left his study the moment Millie disappeared. The walk to his son's rooms was quick, and the box was easy enough to find. Draco was surprised at the weight of it when he picked it up; Drake would have most definitely struggled to carry it, even with some of the items already being expended. He was descending the staircase when his father came into view.

"What have we here?" Lucius asked curiously.

"It seems Drake received a parcel this morning," Draco answered. "I just retrieved what's left of it from his rooms."

"Is there anything to be concerned about—"

"I don't know yet," Draco cut Lucius off. "I'll open it in my study."

"Do you mind if I come along? For curiosity's sake," Lucius drawled.

"If you must," Draco ground out. He was becoming very aware that his father wasn't going to be content to let him deal with this alone, and while it didn't irk him so much, because he did appreciate the support and he had no idea what he was going to do with his son, it did make him feel a little inadequate.

When they reached Draco's study, he put the box on his desk and carefully opened it. There was an array of different items inside ranging from more fireworks to several items Draco couldn't identify from sight.

"Be careful," Lucius mumbled as Draco's hand entered the box.

"I doubt there's anything that would prove dangerous until it was unleashed, Father," Draco replied softly.

"Is that a sheet of parchment tucked into the side?" Lucius questioned, pointing to the side of the box.

Draco paused, and then smirked. "I believe it is."

He extracted the sheet of parchment and unfolded it. Without bothering with the contents initially, Draco's eyes went straight to the signature line and he swore a painful vengeance on his brothers-in-law.

"Well?" Lucius prompted.

"Fred and George Weasley sent him some things to make school more entertaining," Draco responded wryly.

"How could they be so irresponsible?"

"Oh, they did remember to add a note that he shouldn't tell us where he got the things from," Draco added sarcastically.

Lucius shook his head and sighed heavily. "What chance have you got when Ginevra's family encourage this sort of behavior?"

"It's only Fred and George," Draco muttered, feeling inexplicably offended that his father would assume the whole family was in on it. "They tend to think things like this are funny, but that's the nature of their business."

"It hardly helps you to teach your son right from wrong," Lucius observed.

"I don't think that's the issue here." Draco shook his head, knowing the words he spoke were true, which only made the situation more difficult. "Drake knows right from wrong. He knew enough to have this box hidden and enough to not let Miss Sheehan see the fireworks until it was too late. If he didn't think it was wrong, he wouldn't have been so sly about everything."

"True," Lucius mused.

Draco started to pull bits and pieces from the box one by one. He was amazed at the sheer quantity of joke items that were fast covering his desk.

"Is that a real wand?" Lucius questioned as Draco placed an ebony length of wood on the growing pile.

"I don't know." Draco sighed. "It feels real."

"I think we ought to examine it a little more carefully," Lucius suggested. "What if Drake has managed to usurp someone else's wand?"

"While I'm sorting this out, why don't you see if you can identify the owner of the wand?" Draco mumbled disinterestedly.

Lucius picked the wand up and examined it closely. He pointed it at the hearth. "_Incendio_!"

The wand shuddered and emitted a weak red glow. Lucius just had time to snort disgustedly before the wand leapt from his hand and began beating him over the head. An undignified yelp burst from his mouth.

"Father! What on—"

"Stop it! Draco, grab the wand!" Lucius growled as he tried to protect himself.

For several minutes Draco danced around the room trying to get a grip on the errant wand. His efforts were futile, as the wand seemed to sense his every move just before he made it. "Father, hold still!"

Lucius immediately became motionless. His face winced in pain as the wand struck him several times around the head. "Hurry," he hissed.

Draco watched the wand for a few seconds before lunging at it with all his might. Successful at last, he released a triumphant roar and held the wand aloft. He could feel the wand struggling to free itself, but with both his hands wrapped firmly around the shaft the efforts of the wand were pitiful at best.

Lucius wrenched open a small drawer on a side table. "In here!"

It took some careful maneuvering to get the length of wood into the drawer, but finally it was safely stowed away where it could do no harm.

"What on earth was that?" Lucius growled, as he tried to straighten his hair, which was now sticking up at all angles.

"A trick wand," Draco answered flatly, as he returned to the box of goodies.

"Who could possibly find that funny?" Lucius snapped.

"I guess it would be someone who isn't getting maimed by a length of enchanted wood," Draco answered wearily. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, no permanent damage," Lucius admitted.

"Good."

"Biscuits? They sent him biscuits? Do they think we don't feed him?" Lucius reached out for the bright yellow box on his son's desk.

"Don't!" Draco knocked the box from his father's hand. "They're not normal biscuits."

"They look perfectly normal," Lucius said, reaching for the box again.

"They're joke biscuits." Draco placed the box out of his father's reach. "If you eat one you'll turn into a giant yellow canary."

"Ingenious," Lucius mumbled.

"Fred and George think so," Draco returned dryly.

"What is this?" Lucius asked, reaching for a small brown bottle.

Draco sighed heavily. "Father, if you're going to touch things, please promise me you won't put anything in your mouth or use magic."

Lucius rolled his eyes contemptuously.

"Would you like me to let the wand out of the drawer to remind you what sick minds Ginny's brothers have?" Draco inquired acerbically.

"Very well, I promise not to taste anything or draw my wand for any reason," Lucius uttered mockingly.

Draco watched his father pick up the small brown bottle he was curious about. He had half a mind to snatch it away from him before he opened it, but he controlled the urge.

"U-No-Poo," Lucius sounded out slowly. "I don't think I even want to know what this does."

"I think it's fairly obvious," Draco muttered.

Lucius discarded the bottle for a rectangular box with a bright picture of a swamp on it. "Portable Swamp," he read.

Draco chuckled. "I remember those. The Weasley twins spread them through Hogwarts the day they left. It took Filch ages to work out how to get rid of them."

Lucius snorted as he put the box aside and picked up a small package with an all too familiar symbol on the front. "Edible Dark Mark."

His heart skipped a beat. Draco didn't even dare to breathe while his father was examining the foolishly named sweet.

"Is nothing sacred?" Lucius snarled, dropping the package.

"Apparently not," Draco mumbled under his breath. He resumed pulling packages out of the box. The sheer number of items was mind-boggling and just the thought of these 'jokes' in Drake's hands made his blood run cold.

"Skiving Snackbox." Lucius turned a lunchbox shaped container over in his hands. "Contents: Puking Pastilles, Nosebleed Nougat, Fever Fudge, Fainting Fancies. Good Merlin!"

"I bought one of those when I was at Hogwarts." Draco took the container from his father. "The Puking Pastilles are nasty. I gave the Nosebleed Nougat to Crabbe, and while his nose was bleeding Goyle ate the antidote end; we had to find the twins and buy another Snackbox."

"Why on earth would you waste money on something like this?"

"Think about the name of the product," Draco urged. "It provided the perfect excuse to skive off class."

"Ridiculous," Lucius spat.

"They had other uses as well," Draco added. "I remember one night Pansy was driving us all insane with her nattering — nagging really — so we fed her a Fainting Fancy." Draco laughed at the memory. "We didn't give her the antidote until the next morning. She was furious."

"I hardly think that is amusing," Lucius snarled disgustedly. "Is that a telescope?"

Draco looked at the item Lucius was reaching for. "It looks like one."

"At least there's one useful item in all this rubbish," Lucius uttered as he lifted the telescope to his eye. He fiddled with it for a moment, trying to get the focus right, and just as he got it right the telescope emitted a thick cloud of black smoke followed quickly by a loud bang, and then Lucius let out a howl of pain.

"What? What did it do?" Draco demanded, dropping the odd looking horn-shaped thing that was in his hands on his desk.

"It hit me!" Lucius threw the telescope onto the desk.

"Ouch." Draco grimaced when he saw his father's face. "That's going to bruise."

All of a sudden there was an explosive noise from under the desk. Both men jumped, startled by the unexpected intrusion.

"What was that?" Lucius asked, peering around the other side of the desk.

"I don't know." Draco frowned. He couldn't see the item he'd had in his hands before Lucius got punched in the eye. "Or maybe I do."

"What do you mean?"

Draco dropped to his knees and peered into the shadowy recesses of the underside of his desk. "Shh," he whispered.

He thought he could just make out an odd shape in the darkest corner, but before he could be positive the thing moved. It scurried across the floor quickly, hiding behind the leg of his chair and exploding again, before moving to the next leg.

"Are we going to have to lock something else away?" Lucius asked.

"I don't think this is dangerous. It seems to be just running around making noise," Draco uttered thoughtfully.

While Draco was talking Lucius had slipped around behind the chair and slowly moved his foot over to trap the noisy thing against the leg of the chair. "Got it," Lucius announced.

"Thank you." Draco picked the odd horn-shaped item up and carefully placed it in the middle of a pile of jokes, so it couldn't escape.

"Do you think it will stay there?"

"It doesn't look like it can climb," Draco observed.

"Is there anything else in there that might catch us by surprise?" Lucius inquired.

"Umm…" Draco turned back to the box and started moving things around in it. "Instant Darkness Powder— They know how I feel about this stuff," he snarled.

"What else?" Lucius pressed impatiently.

Draco picked up a colorful box with bold writing. "Patented Daydream Charms. There's a bunch of quills in here as well."

"Another useful item?"

"Probably about as useful as the telescope is," Draco countered. "Ton-Tongue Toffees… I can only imagine what they do."

"Anything else?"

"More fireworks," Draco answered. "A few more things, but I think they're just doubles or variations of what I've already pulled out of the box."

"I hate to think of what might have happened if Drake had—"

"So do I," Draco cut in quickly. He didn't want to discuss what might have happened, because his imagination was sure to run away with wild ideas.

"What are you going to do now?" Lucius questioned.

"I suppose it's time to talk to Drake," Draco admitted reluctantly.

"Would you like me to get the boy?"

"No, it's all right. I'll have Millie escort him." Draco wondered how he was going to get rid of his father while he talked to his son. "You could do something for me."

"What's that?"

"Miss Sheehan needs to retrieve her personal items from the classroom, so could you supervise that?" Draco asked carefully. "I'd rather someone be there."

"Certainly," Lucius agreed.

"Perhaps you could secure her forwarding address as well?" Draco suggested. "I'd like to make sure we have that before she leaves."

"Of course." Lucius nodded. "Is there anything else?"

"No, I think that's it. I'll handle everything else."

"Very well. I'll meet with you later," Lucius said.

"You might want to get something done about your eye before Mother sees you," Draco recommended.

Lucius mumbled something under his breath on the way out of the room, but it was so low that it was totally unintelligible.

Draco gazed at the mess on his desk and sighed heavily. This was far bigger than he had dared to imagine. He was going to kill Fred and George when he got his hands on them. If it weren't for their stupidity he wouldn't have to deal with this now, and they'd still have a competent tutor in their employ.

"Millie!"

"Master did summon Millie?"

"Escort the twins here," Draco instructed.

"As Master wishes." The house elf bowed low before Disapparating.

Draco sank into his chair and closed his eyes for a moment. He still had no idea what he was going to say to his heir, but he knew he couldn't delay the meeting any longer. It was this part of parenting that he detested. Why everything couldn't be sunshine and roses all the time was beyond him — it was so much easier.

His hands came up to scrub at his face. Exhaustion was beginning to seep into his bones and he hadn't even had lunch yet. He allowed his hands to fall away from his face and his eyes slipped open. The horrors that his desk contained at that time sent chills down his spine. For the time being he pushed the feeling aside — he needed to keep busy, so as not to dwell on what was to come.

There were several things he needed to accomplish before he returned to the office, so there was little sense in sitting here wasting time. He reached into his desk drawer and withdrew the files they'd used to interview prospective tutors. Although Draco doubted he'd be successful in luring another of the final candidates to the manor at this late date, he had to try. If they didn't have to advertise again it would be a blessing. With a sense of urgency, Draco picked up his quill and quickly composed a letter to his preferred candidate. When he was happy with the tone of what he'd written, Draco summoned his owl. A knock at the door made his bird jump while he was trying to tie the missive to its leg.

"Enter."

Draco finished securing the letter to his owl's leg and sent the bird on its way before looking up. His children were standing before his desk, and Millie was hovering just behind them. Drake was visibly pale and his eyes held a terrified expression that made Draco's heart hurt. Angel's eyes were wide open with morbid fascination as they passed over all that was piled on his desk.

"It seems we have a problem," Draco started, pleased that his voice sounded even and firm. "Angelique, did you have any idea of what your brother was going to do?"

Angel shook her head.

"All right," Draco said slowly. "Did you know that Drake had taken Miss Sheehan's wand?"

The little girl's bottom lip quivered and her gray eyes filled with tears.

Draco sucked in a silent breath as her unspoken answer became clear. He felt like someone had just punched him in the stomach. His reason for questioning Angel was simply to get more information from her; to see if it correlated with the other evidence he'd collected. This was totally unexpected. "Did you do anything to disrupt class this morning, Angelique?"

As she shook her head to negate the idea, tears fell onto her cheeks.

"But you saw Drake take Miss Sheehan's wand?"

Angel nodded slowly.

"Why didn't you report this to Miss Sheehan?"

Draco closed his eyes as a heart-wrenching sob filled the room. He could have kicked himself for making such a tactical error with Angel. There was little hope that he would get anything out of her until she calmed down now.

The door of his office opened suddenly, startling everyone in the room.

"Draco— My apologies, I didn't realize you were busy," Lucius intoned as he scanned the room.

"It's all right, Father," Draco muttered. "Did you need something?"

"Miss Sheehan has retrieved her belongings from the classroom, and this is her forwarding address." Lucius offered a piece of parchment to his son. "I believe she said it's her parents' address."

"Thank you."

"Angelique, why are you upset?" Lucius asked, concern most evident in his tone.

Rather than answer, Angel began sobbing in earnest.

Draco sighed heavily. "Thank you, Father," he mumbled.

"There, there," Lucius crooned.

Horror, anger and finally reluctant resignation passed through Draco when Lucius picked Angel up and held her.

"You've nothing to worry about," Lucius whispered.

His rage began to boil. "On the contrary, Father. Angelique knew Drake had taken Miss Sheehan's wand, so I'd say she has something to answer for."

"You can't possibly believe that to be true," Lucius challenged, clearly not believing what his son had told him.

"She knew," Draco responded flatly. "She could have reported the theft, but she chose not to."

"Surely you're not going to punish her for _not_ telling tales." Lucius looked scandalized.

"I'm not sure what I'm going to do yet, Father. This has come as somewhat of a surprise," Draco admitted in a low voice. "If only she'd said something…" His voice trailed off when his father nodded slightly in understanding.

Although his father seemed to understand the dilemma and gravity of Angelique's silence, he continued to comfort her. Draco was struggling to control his emotions. On one hand he wanted Angel to calm down, but on the other he didn't think comforting her at this juncture was quite the right thing to do.

"Perhaps I should take Angelique to the women?" Lucius suggested. "It's not doing her any good to stay in this stressful situation."

"Not yet," Draco ordered deeply. He swallowed as his father's eyes burned into him. "Put her down, Father. She has to understand that her silence cost us a great deal."

"Draco, I hardly—"

"Well, I do," Draco snarled, cutting his father's protest off. "Put her down."

Angel clung to Lucius. Her little fingers had a white knuckle grip on his robes and her legs were holding him as if she were on a horse.

Draco allowed his anger to show on his face, not to frighten the children, but to let his father know that he was not joking. It seemed to do the trick, because when Lucius looked at him again he seemed at little taken aback and immediately moved to place Angel on her feet. He could see that his father was whispering something to her, but Draco couldn't hear exactly what, nor did he care at this juncture.

"Angelique, let go of Grandfather," Draco demanded.

The little strawberry blonde whimpered pathetically as the security of her grandfather's hands left her.

"Draco, surely this isn't necessary?" Lucius hissed.

"Father, why don't you make yourself comfortable by the hearth?" Draco suggested strongly. When Lucius didn't move right away, Draco narrowed his eyes at the older man and had to force himself to swallow a snarl. He couldn't have him putting his two Knuts worth in at every given opportunity.

Lucius was clearly not happy at being dismissed, but did move to sit in the plush chairs by the hearth. He muttered under his breath the whole way. Draco could only make out fragments of what he was complaining about and most of it centered on Angel's innocence.

"Angelique, I am most disappointed in you. If you'd spoken up you could have saved us a lot of trouble, not to mention your mother a lot of pain," Draco began in a low, serious voice. He was pleased that his last comment received a visible response from Drake, whose eyes widened and came up to meet his. "Your mother received a burn to her hand and, if you bothered to notice, your grandfather has a burn on his shoulder too."

Draco watched as the twins' eyes flitted over to Lucius and back to him again. He found it difficult to decipher exactly what was going through his son's mind at that point, because his eyes held a myriad of feelings, but he was confident that they all centered around worry and fear.

"Fireworks are pretty to look at, but they're _very_ dangerous," Draco continued gravely. "In the wrong hands — the hands of inexperienced children — their effects can be devastating rather than enjoyable."

He paused to let his words sink in. The fact that Drake had made no effort to defend himself or explain his actions was disturbing, but for the time being he was happy to believe that the gravity of the situation was great enough that the boy realized exactly what he had done and that was responsible for keeping his tongue motionless.

A heartbreaking sob brought his attention back to his daughter. She was really suffering, and Draco began to question the justice of punishing her for simply not speaking up when she had the opportunity. After all, she was only five-years-old and to expect her to appreciate the consequences of her silence before the damage was done could be a little too much. As self-doubt began to sneak in, it brought a healthy dose of guilt along for the ride. His heart began to ache as her misery burned into him.

Draco cleared his throat, so his voice wouldn't crack. He knew his voice wouldn't be strong, but he hoped it would be even enough so as not to alert his father to his weakening state. "Father, perhaps you could escort Angel to her mother?"

"Certainly," Lucius replied with a curious expression.

Although, he knew his father was trying to meet his eyes Draco consciously averted his gaze. The last thing he wanted was for his father to see his weakness, even though Lucius himself had lobbied for Angel's innocence. He knew he would have to deal with his father's questions later, because even though Lucius would have opposed any punishment handed down to Angel he will be curious about Draco's change of heart — a weakness that Lucius would undoubtedly frown upon.

It wasn't until the door to the study closed behind them that Draco looked up again. His son still stood before him looking utterly miserable. Draco felt like he was drowning. This was far more than he was capable of handling. Experience would have been a useful tool, but where did one get the experience to deal with a situation like this? There was also a nagging feeling in his gut that if he messed this up he'd make the entire situation worse, so it was imperative that he got it right.

"Drake, I don't know what to say," Draco admitted in a low voice. "You endangered the entire household with this stunt and that can't go unpunished, but at the moment I just don't know how to punish you."

"Didn't mean to," Drake whispered.

"I'm sure you didn't," Draco answered. "Unfortunately, it doesn't change the outcome. Your mother is hurt, your grandmother is quite shaken, Angel was dragged into your mess because she kept your secret, Miss Sheehan has resigned—" He stopped abruptly when Drake gasped.

The little boy's eyes had gone wide with shock and, if possible, he'd paled even more.

"After Friday's drama, Miss Sheehan informed me that she would resign immediately if there was another incident. Today's efforts gave her no reason to change her mind. Although it leaves us without a tutor for the time being, I can't blame her for not wanting to continue. Who would want to deal with the attitude she's been receiving from you on a daily basis? Would you want to deal with someone who behaved like you have been every day?"

Drake shook his head a little.

"I wouldn't either," Draco confessed. He sighed heavily, shook his head and sank into his chair. "Come around here, Drake."

A bystander might have thought a funeral dirge was playing somewhere given the speed Drake moved around the desk. When he appeared beside Draco's chair, he could see that his son was shaking. Pain tore through him. It was never supposed to be like this.

"Why did you do it?" Draco asked passionately. Perhaps if he had some understanding of where Drake's thoughts were at the time he'd be able to cope with the situation better.

Drake shrugged. "It was supposed to be fun," he whispered.

"That didn't quite work out, did it?"

"No," Drake answered in a small voice.

"Was it fun for you?" Draco inquired suddenly feeling dreadful for not considering how terrifying the experience had been for Drake.

Between a loud sniff and a shuddery breath Drake shook his head.

"Were you frightened?"

Whether Drake nodded or not was unclear, but the wail he released let Draco know just how scared his son had been. Impulse rather than clear thought had Draco's arms gathering his son against his chest. He tried his best to soothe him quickly, but it took several minutes to stem the flow of tears and move on to erratic hitching every so often.

"It's over now and nothing else is going to happen," Draco said softly. "What we need to do now is make sure you never, ever do anything like this again. It scares me to think about how seriously you could have been hurt."

"I won't—never again—" Drake hiccupped loudly.

"That's good to hear," Draco cut in. He'd heard enough that he didn't feel it necessary to let his son continue stammering. "Of course, you will still be punished, but as I said before, I'm just not sure what to do with you. I already have your broomstick, and you won't be seeing that anytime in the near future."

A wretched sob tore from Drake's throat, but he didn't try to argue the point.

"I will let you know the rest of your punishment when I come to a decision." Draco sighed heavily. He knew he was going to need help with this matter. "You need to appreciate the seriousness of exactly what you did, so there is never a repeat."

Drake nodded and sniffed.

"For now, you can apologize to your mother and grandmother for subjecting them to such a traumatic experience," Draco advised. "But before we leave the study I want you to dry your tears."

The little boy scrubbed at his face viciously.

Draco frowned. All Drake had succeeded in doing is making his face even redder than before. "Perhaps we'll visit the bathroom on the way and you can wash your face?"

Just as Draco stood up a light tap on the door echoed through the room.

"Enter."

"Draco," Lucius uttered as he strode in. "An owl delivered this for you."

Draco eyed the envelope briefly. "I'll deal with it later."

"You might want to take care of it now," Lucius suggested.

"Oh?" Draco raised an eyebrow as he held his hand out for the envelope. His stomach dropped when he saw the Ministry seal. "Fuck," he hissed.

"Indeed," Lucius uttered.

For as much as he didn't want to, Draco found himself breaking the Ministry seal. The words contained in the missive did not make him feel any better. They had picked up on the fact that Drake had used a wand.

"Well?" Lucius questioned impatiently.

"It's a formal warning," Draco muttered.

"Is that all?"

"_All_? I rather think that's serious enough," Draco snapped.

"Think nothing of it," Lucius continued, ignoring his son's tone. "The Ministry send those warnings out all the time and nothing ever comes of them."

"Father, I hardly think—"

"Draco, think about it logically for a moment," Lucius urged. "He is five-years-old. What are they going to do to him? He can hardly be held responsible for his actions at this age."

Draco found himself nodding in agreement. The Ministry couldn't hold his son responsible at such a tender age, and they'd likely not pursue the matter any further. "We were just on our way to join the women. Drake has some apologies to make."

"Of course," Lucius uttered. "I'll walk with you."

The three wizards moved slowly towards the parlor where the women were still situated, stopping just once for Drake to wash his face and rid himself of some of the redness that had stained his eyes. Lucius and Draco walked side by side, with Drake bringing up the rear, dragging his feet to the point that Draco had to remind him to keep up several times during their journey.

Just before they reached the parlor door, Draco paused, allowing Drake to catch up with him, and then he forced his son to walk ahead, so he would be the first to enter the parlor. There was no putting off what he had to do, so there was little point in giving him bodies to hide behind.

The moment they stepped over the threshold Draco had to rethink his decision to bring Drake to the front, because the little boy stopped dead in front of him and Draco stumbled, as he tried to avoid squashing his son. He was about to berate him quietly, but held his tongue when he saw Drake's face; the little boy was staring at his mother, who was holding her injured hand on her lap.

Drake's eyes were as wide as saucers and the horrified expression they held told of his all consuming guilt. A small, strangled sound escaped his throat, but only Draco and Lucius heard it.

"Go on," Draco urged softly. For as difficult as it was to push him into the room, they couldn't stand there all day.

It was painful to watch Drake move across the floor slowly. He shuffled more than walked, but at least it was progress. Draco remained in the doorway for the time being; the last thing he wanted to do was trip over his son again.

"He's suffering," Lucius whispered.

"I can see that," Draco returned harshly.

"I remember that first day I saw him… He defended Ginevra with such ferocity," Lucius continued. "To know that he is responsible—"

Draco turned to face his father. His face was a mask of pain. "He has to face up to what he did."

"I agree," Lucius answered. "I was merely pointing out that his conscience appears to be punishing him in ways you cannot dream of doing."

A frown creased Draco's brow as his father's words sunk in. "This is a good thing?" he uttered uncertainly.

"Of course," Lucius responded. "Guilt is an ugly monster. The way he feels about his mother would only be compounding the horror of what he managed to achieve."

Draco glanced over to his son. Drake had just reached the women and even from a distance Draco could tell that his son was struggling with his emotions. "Excuse me," he mumbled.

Within seconds Draco was at his son's side. Although furious with him, he laid a comforting hand on the child's shoulder. Drake's breath was already hitching and his eyes, which seemed glued to Ginny's bandaged hand, were beginning to fill with tears.

"It's all right, darling," Ginny crooned, as she held her uninjured hand out.

For a moment Draco didn't think Drake was capable of moving, but then a gut wrenching wail forced itself from his throat, and he threw himself into his mother's arms.

"Shh." Ginny stroked Drake's back comfortingly. "It's all right, darling."

"S—so—rr—y, M—um—my," Drake stammered through his tears.

"Calm down, sweetheart," Ginny pleaded gently.

Draco's eyes drifted to Angel, who was sitting next to her mother. The little girl looked as though she was very close to joining her brother in tears — something he desperately hoped she wouldn't do. He had only half formed the thought when her chin began to quiver. Before he could even think about reacting, Lucius rushed across the room and gathered his granddaughter in his arms.

"Oh dear, so much upset," Narcissa said with a light sigh. "We need to cheer them up… Put the smiles back on their faces."

It was like he was stuck inside a nightmare — one where he could see what was going to happen ahead of time, but he was unable to move or put a stop to it. Disbelief was written all over Ginny's face as she turned slowly to face Narcissa. He could see her mouth opening to respond; yet, he felt helpless to save the situation. It was agonizing.

"I don't—" Ginny started.

"Mother, they are upset for good reason, and it wouldn't teach them anything if we were to immediately spoil them just so they'd stop crying," Draco interrupted calmly. Although surprised at himself for the sudden, yet strangely serene, outburst, Draco didn't let it show. However, he did immediately begin to pray to whomever might be listening that it would be enough to silence his wife, because if there was any more drama today his head was in danger of exploding.

"I wasn't suggesting—" Narcissa began defensively.

Draco simply raised an eyebrow at his mother. He knew she loved her grandchildren beyond reasonable levels, and it pained her to see them miserable, and he also knew that she was a hopeless disciplinarian.

"Perhaps if we could persuade Drake to calm down?" Lucius suggested quietly.

"I think he needs to feel miserable for a while," Draco returned. It wasn't as if his son's anguish didn't affect him, because it did — it cut through him like a thousand blades directly to the heart. He also didn't need to be an expert to know that this display was proof of Drake's regret and that the boy needed to express himself.

Lucius frowned irritably, but nodded in understanding. "Perhaps you're right, but his upset is affecting his sister."

Draco rubbed the back of his neck wearily. He could always rely on his father to point out the painfully obvious. The question was: what could he do about it? Drake clearly needed to vent his feelings — it wasn't good for anyone to carry around the sort of guilt that was eating at him. Of course, the fact that he had no idea how to get Drake to quiet down was also an issue, but one he preferred to not think too hard on at this point.

Ippy suddenly appeared at Lucius' side. The aged house elf bowed low and then directed his gaze in Draco's direction. "We be finding no fireworks in the house at all."

"Thank goodness," Draco uttered.

"This did come for Master." Ippy held out an envelope to Draco.

"Is the classroom clean yet?" Draco inquired as he snatched the envelope from the servant's hand.

"It is nearly finished," Ippy informed him.

"Once it's done everyone can return to their normal duties," Draco ordered. "And spread the word to the other servants that any package or letter entering the house that is addressed to the twins must be delivered to either myself or my wife, not the children. Any servant who breaks that rule will be issued with clothes."

"As Master wishes." With a quick bow the house elf Disapparated.

Draco ripped the envelope open and quickly scanned the missive it contained. A smile crept across his face and for the first time since his father had turned up in his office earlier in the day he began to feel lighter. "I'll be back soon," he mumbled.

"What is it?" Lucius asked before Draco reached the door.

"A solution I hope," Draco answered quickly.

"Draco?" Ginny called.

He stopped in the doorway and turned around. She was looking at him questioningly, obviously curious about his sudden need to leave. Rather than explain across the floor he walked back to her. With Drake still wailing talking was going to be difficult, but he would try his best to satisfy her curiosity.

"I sent an owl to Mr. Conway earlier," Draco started. "He's just replied, stating that he doesn't have a teaching position at the moment and he's interested in talking with me. I'm going to Floo him now and offer him the position."

"Oh," Ginny uttered. "I didn't realize you'd already contacted—"

"I was waiting for the twins to join me in my study and, rather than sit there fuming, I decided to do something and that seemed like a constructive thing to do," Draco explained quickly. He sensed his wife wasn't entirely happy with him.

Ginny frowned lightly. "I just thought we'd talk about it first."

"He was our second choice," Draco said. "I thought you'd be pleased."

"Well… I am… I just thought we'd talk about it first," Ginny repeated slowly.

"What was there to talk about? We both liked him and he's available. If you don't want me to offer him the position—"

"It's not that." Ginny shook her head. "Offer him the position."

"Are you sure?" Draco questioned.

"Yes. Go and make the Floo call. He was very impressive, and if he's available we'd be insane not to take advantage of that."

"I'll be back soon," Draco promised. He wasn't going to question her again now that she'd insisted he make the call, but he would make a point of talking to her later, because there was obviously something she wasn't comfortable with. It could be that she was simply surprised that he'd moved to secure the services of another tutor already, but he just wanted to make sure everything was truly all right.

With a sense of urgency about him, Draco's long legs carried him quickly to his study. He paused briefly as he entered his inner sanctum, but only long enough to make a mental note to have a servant clear the mess off his desk and contact his brothers-in-law at some point.

At the hearth he reached for the Floo powder. After a half an hour of carefully worded explanations and requests that might have sounded dangerously like begging Draco withdrew from the hearth feeling as though he could walk on air. He had successfully solved one problem. A glance at his desk reminded him that he had another problem to resolve.

"Millie!"

"Master did—"

"Pack all the joke items on my desk back into the box and for Merlin's sake be careful," Draco instructed. "The last thing we need is another accident."

"As Master wishes."

He watched the servant work while he mulled over ideas of what to do with the box. It made him infinitely uncomfortable to have it in the house any longer than necessary, because Drake might come across it and decide to activate something else. A small part of him wanted to go charging down to the twins' store and make a scene that would never be forgotten, but his conscience reminded him that it might damage their business. At the moment he had no doubt he was on the right side of the 'argument', so to speak, and given that, he would have the rest of the family on his side as well or should have once they found out what the twins had done.

A smirk started to tug at his mouth as an idea began to form in his mind. It was the perfect revenge. Draco strode to his desk and pulled some parchment from the drawer. He picked up his quill and tapped it against his mouth as he went through what he wanted to say in his head before committing it to paper.

"Just leave the box where is it, Millie," Draco instructed as the last of the items disappeared from his desk. "I'll take care of it from here."

"Yes, Master."

"Return to your duties," Draco mumbled as he brought his quill to the parchment.

Before the house elf had even Disapparated Draco was busy putting his thoughts onto parchment. When he finished his carefully scripted letter he read over what he'd written.

_Dear Molly,_

_Fred and George had this box of goodies delivered to Drake this morning and, after the chaos that ensued in the classroom, I can't keep it in the house for fear that Drake may come across it while we're otherwise occupied. I know they often call in after they close the shop, so I beseech you to return the box to them when you next see them. _

_I apologize for making this your problem, but with the state of the classroom after a wild-fire whiz bang was let loose in there and the burn to Ginny's hand, I'm simply not going to have the time to ensure the box makes it safely back to the hands of its creators. While I could send it to the store, I am very aware of customers' perceptions and to see goods being returned wouldn't leave a favorable opinion in the minds of their patrons._

_I implore you not to open the box for your own safety, as there are many of the twins' ingenious inventions contained in there and not all of them are safe to use inside a house. _

_Thanking you in advance._

_Regards_

_Draco Malfoy_

He smirked as he folded the parchment and slipped it inside an envelope. After a moment's consideration, Draco retrieved the letter Drake had received from his uncles and slipped that inside his envelope as well. When he had sealed the box and attached the envelope containing the letters, Draco leaned back in his chair and considered what he was doing for a few minutes. There was no doubt that he could handle this discreetly, but to do that would let the twins get off scot-free and he simply couldn't abide that. With a nod, he leaned forward and summoned every owl in the manor. Their burden would be great, but he had every confidence in their ability to deliver the package without incident.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

**_AUTHOR'S NOTE_**

_Thanks to Rainpuddle13 for her fantastic beta skills!_


	18. Unforeseen Consequences

**_Disclaimer_**_: I don't own any of the characters you may recognize from the wonderful world of Harry Potter, they all belong to the revered JK Rowling; I just like to play with them a little._

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN**

**UNFORESEEN CONSEQUENCES**

A distant movement in the sky garnered Molly Weasley's attention as she stood by her kitchen window. The matriarch frowned, as what appeared to be a large box, surrounded by no less than six enormous owls, floated into her yard. She wandered to the back door to find the birds waiting on top of the box.

"Just a moment," Molly instructed the owls, as she retreated into the kitchen to retrieve the jar of owl treats she kept at hand. "Now, just one each," she ordered as she returned.

The first bird — the largest — snapped at her fingers as the treat was offered. Molly tutted crossly, but continued rewarding the other birds, and when the last one had received a snack, they took flight together, leaving the box with her.

"I wonder who this is from," Molly pondered aloud, as she picked up the parcel and walked inside.

She placed the box on the worn kitchen table and removed the envelope that was attached to the top. The moment she turned it over she recognized the Malfoy crest embedded into the wax seal. A smile instantly lit up her features and thoughts of what might be in the box entertained her mind, as she tore open the envelope.

Her eyes, which had been sparkling with excitement, grew large as they first scanned the letter Draco had penned, and then the one her sons had sent her grandson. Fury sent color flooding into her face. With the letters still clutched in her hand she strode across the kitchen to the hearth. After taking a handful of silvery Floo powder, she stepped into the space and threw the Floo powder to the ground with more force than was truly necessary. As emerald green flames erupted around her feet she demanded to be transported to Malfoy Manor.

"Hello," Molly called as she stepped into a parlor at her daughter's home. "Hello! Is anyone home?"

A servant suddenly Apparated into the room.

"Oh, dear!" Molly's hand flew to her chest. "You really should give people some warning before doing that."

"Master is not expecting any visitors," the servant said sternly.

"Where can I find Ginny?" Molly demanded.

"Mistress is not to be disturbed," the servant answered.

Molly sighed impatiently. "Where is Draco? And don't you dare tell me—"

"Master is not to be disturbed."

"Tell him Molly Weasley is here," Molly ordered in a tone that brokered no argument.

"Master is not—"

"If you don't tell him _now_, I'll search the house myself," Molly threatened.

"Ippy will alert Master. Molly Weasley will stay _here_," Ippy instructed firmly.

The house elf disappeared, obviously confident that the orders he'd issued would be obeyed. Molly folded her arms over her chest and tapped her foot impatiently while she waited. There were chairs in the parlor, but she was too anxious to relax. All she wanted to do was see her daughter.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Master be forgiving the intrusion," Ippy squeaked as he appeared at Draco's feet.

"What is it?" Draco snapped.

"Molly Weasley is in the visitors' parlor. She is demanding—"

"Yes, yes— all right." Draco waved his hand impatiently. This was one complication he had foolishly overlooked, but seemed obvious now that his mother-in-law had been announced. "I'll see to her. Return to your duties."

"It's not like Mum to drop over unannounced," Ginny said with a frown. "I wonder what she wants."

Draco's eyes dropped to the floor, and a little color crept into his cheeks.

"Draco, what did you do?"

"You know that box of goodies _your_ brothers so _generously_ gifted Drake?" Draco started.

"Yes," Ginny answered slowly.

"I sent it to your mother and asked her to return it to them when she saw them next," Draco continued with a hint of a smirk.

"And I suppose you told her that I was injured?"

"I could have mentioned it," Draco admitted with faux airiness.

"That explains why she's here," Ginny said simply. "I think you'd better go and get her, or she'll be tearing through the house looking for me soon."

"Yes, I suppose so," Draco agreed reluctantly. "You stay here and rest."

"Just go," Ginny replied impatiently.

As he left the room Draco cursed himself for not foreseeing the arrival of his mother-in-law after the delivery of the parcel. Of course, Molly would put Ginny first and the twins' punishment later. Why he had not thought of this was very irritating. Small details like this were his forte, but in his haste he had become careless. His smugness over his ingenuity was about to be punished with Molly's presence.

He paused at the top of the staircase to compose his thoughts. There was no way he could greet his mother-in-law while still berating himself — she would see that right away and pounce on him, as if he had a weakness. With one last strong expletive muttered under his breath, he started his descent of the staircase.

Even before he entered the visitors' parlor he could hear his mother-in-law pacing the floor — a sure sign that she was agitated. He took a deep breath and braced himself for whatever might come as he crossed the threshold.

"Molly, good of you to come," Draco intoned in what he hoped was a genuine voice. "Though it was hardly necessary."

"Oh, Draco," Molly almost shrieked as she swooped in to kiss his cheek. "Where is she? How bad is the burn?"

"She's resting in our private sitting room," Draco answered calmly. "Healer Wilson has examined the burn and is confident it will heal without scarring. Ellen also examined her and declared her fit and healthy, apart from the burn."

"I can't _believe_ Fred and George could be this _foolish_!"

Draco opened his mouth to protest when he thought she might defend her sons.

"When I get my hands on them," Molly finished with a growl, as she started out of the parlor.

He pinched the bridge of his nose briefly and heaved a silent sigh. It was going to be a long afternoon, if he didn't somehow convince Molly she didn't need to be here. After a few seconds, Draco followed his mother-in-law slowly. As she mounted the staircase, he picked up his pace. The last thing he needed was his mother-in-law wandering around the house unsupervised. Merlin only knew what she'd poke her nose into if that were to happen.

"This way, Molly," Draco said as they reached the landing.

"Where are the children?" Molly asked, looking around, as if expecting them to suddenly appear.

"They're confined to their bedrooms for now," Draco answered gravely.

Molly nodded and sighed disappointedly.

"You think they shouldn't be punished," Draco observed.

"No, they should be punished," Molly uttered. "Just keep in mind that Fred and George are the—"

"I know, but they have to learn not to use anything their uncles send them." Draco took a quick sideways glance at Molly in an effort to gauge her reaction. Patience seemed to be her mask at the moment, so he felt safe to push forward. "The fact is, they've both been told, on numerous occasions, not to trust anything their uncles might send them."

"Well, I'll certainly be having a word with Fred and George," Molly said determinedly.

Draco smirked. "I was counting on it," he mumbled under his breath. "I fully intend on having a word to them as well, but my place is with my family right now, so that will have to wait until I feel I can leave them for a time," he said seriously.

"Of course," Molly agreed.

"The entire incident has been very disappointing, but for the moment my main concern is Ginny," Draco continued. "The burn to her hand is quite nasty."

"Oh, dear," Molly uttered as her hand flew to her chest dramatically.

The coppery taste of blood filled Draco's mouth as he bit down hard on his tongue. It was only a small punishment, but it was all he could afford himself right now. Why he had made any reference to the severity of the burn Ginny had suffered was quite beyond him, especially when all he wanted to do was to get rid of his mother-in-law. She was sure not to go anywhere now, because Ginny would need help with everything. He could hear Molly saying so already.

"We'll have to see what we can do to make her more comfortable," Molly said resolutely.

"Healer Wilson has—"

"Healers!" Molly scoffed with a wave of her hand. "What do they know?"

Draco was tempted to sink his teeth into his tongue again, but resisted the urge — he might need to later, and he didn't want blood loss to become a concern. The urge to remind Molly what the _very_ expensive Healers at St. Mungo's did for her recently was almost too much to deny, but he held back and allowed her to believe what she would.

"You should have told me sooner… I could have—"

"I had Ellen check Ginny and the baby as well," Draco butted in firmly. "She put herself in a substantial amount of danger."

"Danger?"

"Yes, she went into the classroom while the fireworks were active. I just wanted to make certain the only injury she sustained was the burn to her hand."

Molly stopped walking and turned to Draco. "I think you should tell me the full story."

"I assure you, it would serve no purpose," Draco said. "As I told you before, my only concern now is Ginny's comfort."

"Draco," Molly growled in a tone that brokered no argument. "You _will_ tell me _exactly_ what happened."

He tried not to cringe as he stood before her. Molly Weasley was formidable when she was in this mood and quite capable of making him feel like a naughty schoolboy. "Very well," he agreed, while kicking himself for bringing the incident up again.

It only took five minutes to relay the events of the morning and another five minutes to calm his mother-in-law down enough, so they could continue to the parlor where Ginny was waiting. In that time, Draco thanked whoever might be listening for giving him the sense to give her the abridged version, without all the gory details. Then, just for a few seconds, he felt a little guilty about sending the parcel to Molly, but it passed. However, he did worry that the horrid feeling might return if she really took the lives of Fred and George.

"Oh, Ginny!" Molly cried as she burst into the parlor.

Draco rolled his eyes behind his mother-in-law's back and pulled a face at his wife, who had startled when her mother's voice ripped her from a nap.

"Mum, what are you doing here?" Ginny asked in a sleepy voice.

"I had to come!" Molly expressed as she made herself comfortable next to her daughter. "You need help."

"I'm fine, Mum, really," Ginny insisted. "Healer Wilson has—"

"Did he apply any burn-healing paste?" Molly interrupted.

"I don't think so," Ginny muttered uncertainly. "I'm not really sure."

"Let me have a look," Molly ordered.

"Healer Wilson instructed her to leave the dressing alone for now," Draco cut in evenly.

Molly snorted derisively and carefully picked up her daughter's hand.

"Mum, it might be a good idea to just leave it for now," Ginny tried. "It is pretty sore."

"If he didn't apply burn-healing paste, we need to do that as soon as possible," Molly argued.

"I said I wasn't sure," Ginny reiterated. "He could have. I wasn't watching what he was doing."

"I'll just have a peek under the dressing," Molly said. "If he did, I'll be able to see it easily."

"Mum—"

"Just hold still, dear," Molly requested.

Draco tensed, as his wife's entire body stiffened. He could see the color draining from her face, and although she didn't show her pain in her expression, her eyes could tell no lies. "Molly, I really think—"

"Ah, there it is! Just a smidge of orange," Molly declared. "He really ought to have used a lot more."

"It's probably dissolved into her skin," Draco suggested.

"We need some more then," Molly stated firmly.

"No." Draco cringed when he heard how harsh his tone sounded; he hadn't meant for the word to come out quite so brutally, but it was too late to take it back, especially as his mother-in-law was now looking at him like she was trying to decide which limb to tear from his body first for talking back. "It's not that we don't appreciate your concern, Molly, but Ginny's not feeling well and to keep upsetting her injury like that isn't helping."

"Her burn will take twice as long to heal if it's not cared for properly," Molly pointed out.

"I just feel she's had enough for one day," Draco tried a tad weakly. "Perhaps you could check on her tomorrow?"

It was difficult not to wither under the Weasley matriarch's stare. Draco held his ground, but only just, and he couldn't meet the older woman's eyes. His regret at sending the package was overwhelming at the moment; it was a foolish idea that he didn't fully think through, and now he was definitely going to be punished for said idiocy.

"Or you could be here when Healer Wilson examines Ginny's hand next?" Draco added halfheartedly.

"Mum, I really have had enough prodding for one day," Ginny said in a tone that belied her pale complexion. "The pain relief potion he gave me is making me want to sleep."

"Rest is very important too," Molly conceded.

"How about we tuck you into bed?" Draco suggested, grasping the opportunity to remove his wife from her mother's clutches. "You'll rest a lot better if you're comfortable."

"I'm fine here for now," Ginny responded.

"Draco's right, dear," Molly clucked. "You should be in bed where you can rest properly."

Draco sent Ginny a pointed look over Molly's shoulder. He hoped she would interpret his message accurately and it would lead to a favorable outcome.

"I really—" Ginny faltered, her brow furrowing as she found her husband's eyes. "Maybe I should lie down," she finished hesitantly.

"I'll help you into bed," Draco offered quickly. "Molly, can I arrange some tea for you?"

"That's all right, dear," Molly answered as she stood up. "Ginny will need some help changing her clothes."

"Mum, I can manage," Ginny said wearily.

"Not with one hand you can't," Molly replied firmly.

"I can—" Draco stopped abruptly. Even though they were married, it seemed inappropriate to suggest that he was capable of undressing Ginny to her mother, of all people. "A servant… I'll summon Millie to help."

"Will both of you please stop fussing," Ginny expressed with frustration clearly evident in her tone. "I am quite capable of getting myself into bed, thank you."

Molly sat back down, her hands clutched in her lap and her lips pursed. "Very well, dear."

"Cup of tea, Molly?" Draco offered again, trying mightily to hide the smirk wanting to show itself. His mother-in-law obviously didn't like being told her assistance wasn't required and, for some unbeknownst reason, the thought tickled him.

"No, thank you, Draco," Molly said strongly. "If Ginny doesn't need my help, I might head home."

Draco nodded his acknowledgement, not trusting himself to speak lest his overwhelming joy be conveyed on an inappropriate level.

"Mum, I'm fine," Ginny assured her. "Go home and do what you have to. Dad will want his dinner when he gets home from work."

"If you need any help with anything, I don't care what time of day—"

"You'll be the first to know," Ginny promised.

"I'll escort you downstairs, Molly," Draco said before turning to his wife. "I want you in bed before I return."

Ginny smiled tightly at Draco, but didn't make any promises.

"Take care of yourself, dear," Molly instructed Ginny. "I'll pop in tomorrow to check on you."

"Thank you for coming, Mum," Ginny intoned as genuinely as she could. "I'm sorry I'm so tired, but—"

"No need to apologize." Molly waved off her daughter's words. "Just get some rest, so you heal quickly."

Ginny accepted a light kiss on her cheek and quick hug from her mother wordlessly.

"See you tomorrow," Molly promised, as she left the sitting room ahead of Draco.

Just before he stepped out of the sitting room, Draco turned and gave Ginny a wink, along with a cheeky smile.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A very worried Molly Weasley appeared in the fireplace at the Burrow. So caught up in her concern for her daughter, the grandmother failed to notice the two men standing by her kitchen table.

"Mum, where have you been?" Ron asked.

"Oh, hello, boys," Molly responded, a little startled. "What are you two doing here?"

"We dropped in for some afternoon tea," Ron informed her.

"What's all this?" Harry inquired, pointing to the box on the table.

"Such a mess." Molly shook her head sadly. "Fred and George sent it to Drake, and Drake set off fireworks in the classroom."

Ron sniggered. "I bet Malfoy's furious."

"It's no laughing matter, Ronald," Molly scolded. "Ginny has a nasty burn to her hand thanks to their thoughtlessness."

"She burned her hand?" Harry said with concern.

"Yes." Molly sighed. "She went into the classroom to help the tutor out and the fireworks dived at her."

"Bloody hell," Ron mumbled.

"Language, Ron," Molly snapped. "Draco didn't want to keep the box at home, just in case Drake found it again, so he sent it here for safe keeping, until it can be returned to the twins."

Ron frowned. "Why didn't he just send it back to the shop?"

"He didn't want any of their customers seeing the goods returned. It's not good for business, apparently," Molly explained. "If I were him, I wouldn't have been quite so considerate."

"That was decent of him," Harry muttered.

"Yeah, if you look at it that way." Ron chuckled. "Sending it to Mum is going to cost them a lot more than just a few customers though."

"Well, they shouldn't have sent it to Drake in the first place," Harry pointed out. "Can you imagine the damage—"

"Draco told me that the classroom was a mess. They had to blow out all the windows, so the fireworks could escape before the house caught fire," Molly interrupted. "And their tutor has _resigned_."

"That was only a matter of time," Harry commented. "She wasn't quite up to handling Drake from what I heard."

"It's not the point," Molly said sharply. "No one should be put in that position, and it's all Fred and George's fault! When I get my hands on them…"

Ron and Harry exchanged amused, yet slightly worried, glances. The twins would be lucky to survive the berating their mother was working herself up to give them, if she didn't calm down before she saw them.

"And to think they actually told Drake _not_ to tell his parents about the package," Molly growled. "They _knew_ what they were doing was _wrong_!"

"They're not stupid," Ron mumbled.

Harry bit the side of his mouth to stop from laughing aloud. For two very intelligent men, Fred and George could be _incredibly_ stupid at times.

"We might head off, Mum," Ron announced suddenly.

"What about afternoon tea?" Molly asked, obviously remembering their original reason for being at the Burrow.

"Out of time." Ron shrugged nonchalantly. "We were here for a while before you arrived. If we don't get back to the office soon, they'll think something has happened to us."

"Why don't you take something with you? I've got some scones—"

"It's fine, Mum," Ron assured her. "We really are out of time."

Molly stopped halfway to the cupboard. "All right then. Will I see you tonight?"

"Yeah, I'll drop in on the way home," Ron promised. "See you later, Mum."

"I'll see you tonight as well," Harry assured her.

"Good." Molly smiled fondly at the pair as they left the kitchen.

"Where to?" Harry whispered as they entered the yard.

"Leaky Cauldron," Ron returned.

Harry nodded his understanding and turned on the spot, Disapparating away from the Burrow.

Ron threw one last wave and smiled at his mother's face in the kitchen window and followed his partner to their destination.

"Tell me why we're here and not at the Burrow eating scones?" Harry demanded the moment Ron appeared beside him.

"It's only fair that we warn them," Ron started.

"Warn them?" Harry repeated, clearly shocked. "_Why_ would we warn them? They deserve everything they're going to get and then some. Do I need to remind you that the parcel was sent to my godson?"

"All right, calm down." Ron frowned heavily. "It just doesn't seem right—They're going to walk into a deadly trap—"

"Who is?"

"Bill, what are you doing here?" Harry asked.

"Took an early mark from work and thought I'd have a mead or two before heading home," Bill answered. "So, who's walking into a deadly trap?"

"Fred and George," Ron replied miserably.

Bill rolled his eyes. "What did they do this time?"

"Sent Drake a package," Harry said gravely.

"Need I ask what the package contained?" Bill muttered.

"Fireworks," Ron supplied.

"What?" Bill's eyes opened wide and his face flushed with anger.

"Drake set them off in the classroom and Ginny's got a burn on her hand," Ron continued.

"Bloody hell," Bill mumbled. "So Draco's out for blood then?"

"Don't know." Ron shrugged and frowned. "Mum is though. Draco sent the package to her."

Bill's lips started to twitch and his eyes were suddenly dancing with laughter. "Crafty bastard."

"Ron thinks we ought to warn the twins," Harry said.

"Oh no, we're not warning them," Bill advised. "But we do want to make sure we're there when they show up."

"But it's not fair—They'd warn us—"

"They would not," Harry scoffed. "They'd sell tickets and make sure they had front row seats to our humiliation."

"Yeah, but this isn't going to be just humiliation; it's going to be a flaying," Ron argued.

Bill smirked. "All the more entertaining."

"Maybe we should sell tickets," Harry pondered.

"We should probably check in on Ginny," Bill muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "Draco's got to be seething."

Ron and Harry both made noncommittal sounds in the back of their throats. While they agreed, neither was willing to volunteer to take the trip to Wiltshire to check on injuries, especially while tempers were likely to be in play.

"Right," Bill expressed commandingly. "You two let Charlie and Percy know what's happened, and tell them to be at the Burrow at six o'clock. I'll check on the victims and make sure the twins are at the Burrow not long after that."

"You're going to deliver them to Mum?" Ron asked, clearly horrified.

"Ron, they did wrong, very _wrong_ this time. Beau's a year older than Drake… What if they sent him a package like that? I don't have the money or resources Draco has to make repairs to the cottage. They endangered—"

"All right, I get it," Ron butted in, holding his hands up in surrender.

"Good," Bill answered. "Harry, make sure they understand the seriousness of the situation, because I don't trust this twit."

"I will," Harry promised. "How are you going to get the twins to the Burrow? They'll be suspicious if you're too upfront about it."

"Don't worry about that; it's a minor detail." Bill grinned evilly at the two Aurors.

"I think it's better we don't know," Harry uttered dubiously.

"Definitely," Bill agreed. "So, I'll see you two at the Burrow?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Harry replied.

"Yeah, I'll be there, but just so you know, my heart isn't in it," Ron clarified miserably.

"Don't worry, little brother, once the action starts your heart will be cheering Mum on," Bill assured him with a hearty slap on the back. "Well, I've got people to see and deviants to set up. See you tonight."

Ron and Harry watched Bill Weasley stroll out of the pub with an air of confidence.

"What now?" Ron asked, turning to Harry.

"We go back to the Ministry and see if we can find Percy, and contact Charlie. I wonder if we can get an urgent message to him while he's at work?"

"Depends on what he's doing, I suppose," Ron muttered. "This isn't really urgent."

"You still want to warn the twins, don't you?" Harry asked.

"It just doesn't seem fair," Ron whined.

"Let Bill deal with them," Harry advised. "Knowing those two, they won't fall for his trap to get them to the Burrow anyway. They'll be expecting _something_."

"Yeah, you're right," Ron said, sounding a lot more confident. "They're not stupid."

"Right," Harry agreed with a sly smirk.

"And going to Mum's tonight means we'll get a decent meal," Ron added happily.

"Absolutely," Harry concurred amusedly.

"I guess we'd better get back to the Ministry then," Ron muttered.

"I'll meet you there," Harry said, as he turned on the spot.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Bill strolled down Diagon Alley as if he hadn't a care in the world. A plan to get his younger twin brothers to their parents' home this evening was already brewing in his head, and as he walked, he was working out any kinks that might arise, so he was ready for anything. The gaudy exterior of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes loomed in front of him, and he took a moment to smile to himself before he entered the chaotic store.

It was, as usual, packed to capacity with customers and he could hear his brothers' voices booming over the crowds of shoppers, inviting people to try something or tempting someone else to make a purchase. They really were good at what they did.

"_They're on special! Ten for a Galleon!"_

"_Your friends are going to love these!"_

"Bill!" Fred exclaimed.

"What brings you to our world?" George asked, not bothering to lower his voice.

"I come bearing an invitation to dinner this evening," Bill announced.

The twins exchanged a glance.

"Oh?" Fred prompted.

"Well, sort of an invitation," Bill clarified. "I got off work early today, so I thought I'd drop in on Mum… See if she would give me some lunch, you know?"

"Yeah," George replied.

"She seemed really down in the dumps… Lonely," Bill continued. "So I got to thinking, what if we all just turned up for dinner?"

"The whole lot of us?" George asked.

"No, just us boys," Bill said. "I did ask Ginny, but she has some charity thing tonight that she can't get out of."

"What about Draco?" Fred inquired.

"I didn't ask him," Bill stated. "I thought it would be nice for Mum if just _her_ boys came for dinner. Make it like the old days when we were all living at home."

The twins exchanged another glance.

"Is there something wrong?" Bill asked.

"No."

"Why would there be anything wrong?"

Bill shook his head and shrugged. "You both seemed a little worried about something, that's all."

"Since when do we worry about things?"

The oldest Weasley brother chuckled humorously. "That was a bit stupid, wasn't it? So, can I count you in for dinner?"

"Absolutely," Fred declared.

"Wouldn't miss it for anything!" George agreed.

"Great." Bill beamed at them.

"How is Ginny?" George inquired casually.

"What he means, is how huge is she getting?" Fred corrected.

"She's doing well… Seems really happy, believe it or not," Bill confirmed with a convincing smile. "Well, I'd best be off. I need to tell Fleur I won't be home for dinner tonight, and you two had better pay your wives the same courtesy."

"Yeah, we'll let them know," Fred uttered. "See you tonight!"

"Six o'clock sharp," Bill informed them. "I want everyone to get there at the same time, so the surprise isn't ruined."

"Not a problem!" George assured him.

As Bill left the store he wondered if Ron had managed to get hold of Percy or Charlie yet, not that it mattered, because the twins would definitely be there and they didn't suspect a thing. He made his way quickly to an Apparition point and headed for his next destination.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Draco narrowed his eyes at the house elf who dared to disturb their peace again. "What?"

"Master be forgiving—"

"Just get on with it," Draco snapped.

"Mister Bill Weasley is wanting a private word," the servant muttered.

He sighed heavily and got to his feet. Word was obviously spreading through the family. "Where is he?"

"He be waiting for Master in the foyer," the servant replied.

"Return to your duties," Draco growled.

"Someone's been tattling," Ginny sang.

"Apparently," Draco drawled. "This won't take long."

"Bill can come up—"

"He probably doesn't want to disturb you, so let's keep it that way," Draco interrupted.

Draco silently berated himself all the way to the staircase. Why he had not foreseen the family bombarding his home with their concerned faces was a mystery to him. After all, he prided himself on reading people and he was certainly aware of how his in-laws reacted to any given situation.

"Bill," Draco called, trying to sound pleased, from the landing.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you, Draco," Bill said as his brother-in-law descended the stairs. "Ron and Harry told me what happened."

A frown crossed Draco's face. "Ron and Harry?"

"Yeah, they'd called in for afternoon tea and found the twins' package. Anyway, Mum arrived home while they were there and… Well, the old girl is not happy."

"I got that impression from her as well," Draco admitted with a smirk.

"Anyway, I just thought I'd let you know, we're having a little gathering at the Burrow tonight."

"Ginny's not really in any condition—"

"We're not inviting the women, if you don't count Mum," Bill cut in. "It'll just be us blokes and we'll get this sorted."

"What sorted?"

"Look, Mum wants a piece of the twins for what they did, but if we don't act fast the twins will avoid her until she calms down a bit, so we need to get them there tonight, which I've arranged."

"The twins are going to be there?" Skeptical didn't begin to cover what Draco was feeling.

Bill nodded and smirked. "They think they're going over for dinner, because Mum's feeling a bit down and lonely."

"That is sneaky," Draco declared.

"So is sending their parcel to Mum," Bill countered.

"I didn't know what else—"

"I wasn't having a go," Bill assured him. "You've the mind of a genius. I just wanted to let you know that we're gathering at six o'clock tonight, in case you want to be there."

"What will happen _exactly_?"

"The twins won't be able to escape with all of us there, so Mum will be able to have her say. Plus, I want to have a few words to them, so they understand that sending parcels like that to any of the kids is just not on. I'm sure you've got a few things to say to them as well."

"Yeah, but I don't think it's the type of discussion your mother should be present for," Draco pointed out.

Bill chuckled. "Don't worry about Mum. You can say anything to them and she won't be offended."

"It's still not the tone of conversation I'd hold with a woman present," Draco argued.

"Well, it's up to you," Bill said. "So, can I count on you to be there at least?"

Draco pondered the prospect for a few moments. He'd love to get hold of the Weasley twins, but he didn't think the forum was appropriate, because he was likely to be tempted to use language that shouldn't be uttered in front of a woman and his mother-in-law would be very present.

"I promise, I'll hold you back if you want me to," Bill offered, as if he could read Draco's thoughts. "Or I'll jump in and help you if you want to really punish them."

"All right, I'll be there," Draco vowed.

"Six o'clock sharp," Bill instructed. "They've got less chance of escaping if we all arrive at once."

Draco nodded. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," Bill replied with a wave of his hand. "I shudder to think what would have happened if Beau had of received a similar package."

"Fleur would have been a little more alert to what was going on than what our tutor was," Draco said surely.

"Probably, but the thought still sends chills down my spine," Bill muttered. "I'll see you tonight."

"Okay," Draco uttered as he moved to the front doors.

"You do realize you're going to have to let Mum have her say first, don't you?" Bill inquired with a grin.

"Don't worry, I'm not about to get in her way," Draco answered with a smirk.

Bill's laughter was still echoing through the air after he'd Disapparated from the front steps. As Draco wandered slowly back upstairs he wondered if he was doing the right thing. A private audience with the twins might have served him better.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"You don't have to go," Ginny said almost pleadingly.

"I promised Bill I'd be there," Draco responded flatly.

"It doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does," Draco returned patiently. "I'm a man of my word, and besides I have some things to say to your brothers."

"But you don't want to go," Ginny argued observantly.

"Beside the point," Draco mumbled. "I'm going."

Ginny sighed heavily. "Well, don't say I didn't warn you."

Draco turned and looked at his wife quizzically. "Warn me about what?"

"You won't be able to get a word in edgewise," Ginny informed him. "Mum will tear them apart, then Bill and Charlie will start with Ron and Harry adding the odd comment here and there, and then Percy will get all official and pompous. By the time you open your mouth, there won't be enough left of them for you to attack."

"I'll make my point, love, and they _will_ get the message," Draco assured her before kissing her forehead. He regretted telling her what was going on from the moment the words had spilled from his mouth. "I'll be home… well… I guess it'll be when we've finished with them."

"I should come with you," Ginny said resolutely.

"No, stay here and look after your hand." Draco frowned. "I don't think—"

"I do think," Ginny cut him off. "I have a few words for them myself."

"You can save them up and get them at a later date… when they're least expecting it," Draco promised. "Besides you can't even hold your wand properly. How are you going to hex them if you can't do that?"

"I'll manage," Ginny promised.

"Well, you weren't invited," Draco pointed out.

"That doesn't mean I can't go. It's my family."

"Bill was fairly specific. It's only going to be the men."

"Mum's going to be there," Ginny reminded him.

Draco sighed dramatically and placed his cloak on the arm of the chair. "Ginny love, if you come they'll all be fussing over your injuries, and it'll probably deter everyone from getting their point across. I think it's important that we get the point across the first time, because they could send that sort of package to any of the children in the family, and the consequences could be devastating."

"I don't want any fuss. I just want a piece of them."

"I know, and you'll get to say your piece, but let me handle the initial contact and you can get them at a later date. They won't be expecting it, so you'll have the element of surprise."

"They'll be expecting it," Ginny corrected.

"Whether they are or not is irrelevant. You're staying here tonight," Draco said firmly. "I have to go or I'm going to be late."

"How can you be late for something like this? It's not like they're going to announce you or anything."

"Bill wanted everyone to arrive at exactly six o'clock, so they wouldn't have a chance to escape or figure out what was going on until it was too late."

"I still want to come," Ginny insisted.

"Well, you're not," Draco informed her strongly. "I really have to leave now."

Just as her mouth was opening to argue again, Draco swooped down and kissed her firmly, then quickly strode from the sitting room, picking his cloak up on the way. Of course, there was no guarantee she wouldn't get up and follow him or that his hasty exit wouldn't get him in trouble; in fact, he was very likely to be in trouble when he next saw his wife. As he reached the end of the corridor, he checked his timepiece; he had less than a minute to get to his destination. Not wanting to be late, Draco Disapparated from the upper floor of his home.

A few seconds later, he arrived in the yard of the Burrow; the sound of his arrival was drowned by others, as all his brothers-in-law joined him at once. Draco moved to his right to greet Harry, but just as he extended his hand and the words formed in his mind, the twins arrived. His eyes narrowed and his fury rose like a wild beast begging to be set free.

All of a sudden, Harry was in front of him, blocking his view and nattering on nonsensically. Draco tried to push past him, but to the Auror's credit, he held his ground. An arm snaked around Draco's shoulders and held him tight.

"Easy there, big boy," Charlie whispered in Draco's ear. "You'll get your turn, I guarantee it."

"Do you know what they did?" Draco hissed, his rage getting the better of him.

"Harry told me, and I've spoken to Bill this afternoon as well," Charlie replied calmly. "Listen, if you fly off at them now, they're not going to hang around long enough to hear you out. You need to let Mum take them down first, so they don't have the energy to escape."

"That's insane," Draco snarled.

"Maybe so, but that's how it works with those two," Charlie answered sympathetically. "Only Mum has the power to make them stay."

"Patience," Harry instructed seriously.

"I just want to—" Draco snarled in the back of his throat, unable to put into words exactly what he wanted to do to the two men, because his rage was all consuming. He'd never been this irate and the feeling was beginning to frighten him a little.

"Yeah, I know," Charlie whispered sympathetically.

"No, you _don't_," Draco argued. "My _wife_, my _children_, my _parents_… All put at risk because of these two thoughtless _pricks_."

Charlie tightened his grip on Draco's shoulder. Though the man was shorter than Draco, his strength was enough to keep the enraged blond in place. "Just let Mum pin them down first, then you'll get your chance. If you start on them now, they'll just take off and you'll have a hard time finding an opportunity to air your grievances."

"I want to do more than just tell them," Draco growled as his wand hand twitched.

"Don't go there," Harry warned deeply. "Ron and I don't want to have to step in."

"You'd actually—"

"We'd have no choice," Harry butted in. "In this frame of mind, you're not thinking rationally, so our choices are limited. We have to protect—"

"Who was there to _protect_ my family from _them_?" Draco demanded irately.

"Maybe we should take you for a walk," Charlie suggested.

"I don't want to—" Draco stopped as the door to the kitchen slammed.

"You _two_!" Molly Weasley strode across the yard to confront her twin sons. "How _dare_ you send that package to Drake! You could have _killed_ him!"

The twins exchanged slightly panicked glances before their mouths began to work.

"That's a bit—"

"Kid was bored—"

"How did you know?" the twins finished in unison.

"Ginny was hurt trying to rescue the tutor. She's got a very nasty burn to her hand. The damage to the house—"

"House?"

"What damage?"

"Drake set one of _your_ fireworks off in the classroom," Molly informed them. "The whole house could have _burned_ down. What were you _thinking_?"

"In the house?" Fred repeated, with a hint of a smile starting to break across his face.

"Too good." George started to chuckle.

"This is no laughing matter," Molly insisted, angrily poking a stubby finger into George's chest. "They could have been _killed_!"

"Rubbish," Fred asserted, making no effort to control his mirth.

"It was only a—" George started.

"You're _very_ lucky Draco didn't storm into the shop to return the box," Molly continued. "He had every right to, but he had the common _decency_ to think of how that would affect _your_ business. It's a _shame_ you didn't have the sense to think of how such a package would affect his house. I'm so _disappointed_ in both of you."

Fred frowned. "I have the distinct feeling—"

"We've been set up," George finished with a matching frown.

Bill snorted humorlessly. "You could say that, boys."

"How could you?" George asked in a wounded voice.

"You're our big brother; we're supposed to be able to trust you," Fred complained.

"Mum needed to vent," Bill replied indifferently. "Not to mention, Draco wants a piece of you."

"Draco's here?" Fred took a furtive glance around the immediate area.

"I haven't seen him," George challenged.

"That's because Charlie and Harry are holding him back, but from what I can see he wants to do more than yell at you," Bill informed them seriously. "Not that I can blame him. You're responsible for hurting his wife and endangering his children. How would you feel if someone hurt your wives or put your children in the same position Drake and Angel were in?"

"A bit of harmless fun," Fred muttered unconvincingly.

"It always is until someone gets hurt," Percy chimed in pompously. "I've _always_ said those things you sell should have age restrictions on them."

"If they were restricted we couldn't sell to Hogwarts students," George claimed.

"They're our _biggest_ customers!" Fred declared.

"I know I wouldn't complain about that, and I'm sure the other professors would be with me," Charlie said. "Merlin knows how many times one of your inventions has been responsible for disturbing a class."

"Kids have got a right to—" George began to mumble, but uncharacteristically fell silent upon feeling his oldest brother's glare.

"We have a right to know that our kids aren't going to be given _anything_ that may cause them harm," Bill said in a low tone.

Fred feigned a scandalized expression. "We would never!"

"Absolutely not!" George added vehemently.

"You already have," Bill responded angrily. "Why is it you two can't _see_ what you've done?"

"We didn't do anything more than send our nephew a care package to entertain him," George claimed defensively.

"Poor kid, doing _homework_ while everyone else is playing Quidditch," Fred complained forlornly. "He needed _something_ to lift his spirits."

Bill took a deep breath to steady his temper. "Ginny has a burn to her hand and, from all I've been told, she could have been injured a lot worse. She is _pregnant_. Remember? Draco's ancestral home could have burned down. Luckily, they managed to keep the damage to one room, but that was probably just luck rather than careful management. Drake and Angel were caught in a room with a tutor who used magic on your fireworks—"

"Magic?" Fred paled visibly.

George swallowed hard. "They _used_ magic?"

"Yes, they bloody well used magic," Bill snarled. "Why do you think Ginny entered the room?"

"We didn't mean—"

"Drake shouldn't have—"

"Ginny should have _known_ better," Fred claimed distraughtly.

"Known _better_?" Molly shrieked. "How could she have known better? You told Drake not to tell his parents what you'd sent him… You told him to _lie_."

"We did not!" George responded quickly.

"I have the _letter_," Molly warned. "The one you sent to Drake."

The twins looked at each other, bravely taking their eyes from their mother's furious expression.

"Did we say that?" Fred asked his twin.

George frowned and shrugged. "We might have."

Fred nodded. "We wouldn't have wanted them to find out."

"They would have taken the goodies off him," George surmised thoughtfully.

"And that wouldn't have been fair," Fred added.

"Would have spoiled all his fun," George commented.

"FUN?" Molly bellowed, garnering the attention of not only the twins, but everyone in the yard as well. "Do you think it was _fun_ when the fireworks were flying around the classroom? The children were _traumatized_! Your sister was _injured_!"

"We didn't mean for anyone to get hurt," Fred mumbled.

"You never do, but somehow it happens _often_," Molly retorted.

George shuffled his feet under his mother's glare. "It was supposed to be a bit of harmless fun."

"Just a few bits and pieces to take the boredom out of the day," Fred supplied.

"If that was your objective, I think you can safely claim success, because the day has been _anything_ but boring for Draco and Ginny." Molly sent a sympathetic look in Draco's direction.

"Do I get my say _now_?" Draco growled in Charlie's direction.

Charlie chuckled as he stepped forward. "Yeah, I think Mum's just about done chewing them up, so we'd best be close for when she spits them out."

The closer he got to the twins the more his temper rose. To say he was irrationally affected was an understatement, in his opinion. All he wanted to do was throttle both men with his bare hands. Charlie's hand remained on his shoulder, lending a sense of support and comfort, not to mention a firm reminder that he would be held back if necessary. Harry was close by his other side, so close, in fact, that Draco could feel his shoulder rubbing against his arm. Somewhere deep in his mind, Draco thought it was a good thing he'd not agreed to his wife's demands to accompany him, because he didn't like to think of her seeing him like this.

With only a few feet remaining between himself and the twins, who were now looking decidedly guilty, Draco opened his mouth to unleash his rage on them, but a firm squeeze to his shoulder distracted his train of thought.

"Just before you give them what for, I have something to say," Charlie said evenly. The burly redhead turned to his much taller, younger brothers. "If you _ever_ think of doing something like this again to any of the kids in this family I _will_ turn you into dragon food. Understood?"

The twins exchanged guilt-ridden glances and nodded slightly, while their feet shuffled uncomfortably on the ground.

"Right. Your turn, Draco," Charlie announced.

Draco glared at the two men through narrowed eyes. His thoughts were all centered on a physical punishment of the likes they would never forget and no rational ideas were coming to mind. For the first time in his life, he really wanted to simply bellow and let loose with his fists, to express his fury without holding back. The vision of Ginny nursing her injured hand crossed his conscious thoughts, and then his father's smoldering shoulder passed through as well.

"Are you all right?" Harry whispered.

His eyes flicked to the right to find Harry's green eyes peering at him with obvious concern. The distraction brought him out of his thoughts and back to the present, where he noticed he was trembling. "Fine," Draco ground out. "I'm just trying to convince myself not to kill them outright."

"Torture is always more fun," Charlie quipped with a chuckle.

Draco's eyes moved back to the twins. The momentary distraction was exactly what he needed for his thoughts to organize themselves. He stopped shaking immediately and brought his emotions under control in a practiced maneuver. "I don't think it really matters what anyone says to you, neither of you are going to comprehend the full weight of what you did or the _danger_ you put my wife and children in. Imagine your father coming into your office and telling you that your son has set fireworks off in the house and there's an issue containing said fireworks… Have you _any_ idea the level of terror that flows through your body when you hear news like that? Do you know what it's like to watch helplessly as your pregnant wife is _burned_ by one of the fireworks? Or to have to carry your _mother_ out of a room teeming with dangerous fireworks?"

"We didn't mean—"

"It was supposed—"

"It doesn't matter what it was _supposed_ to be," Draco snarled. "The fact is it wasn't you tackling your father to put his cloak out before the smoldering fabric caught fire. It wasn't you who had to blow out an entire wall of windows to free the fireworks threatening to _destroy_ your home. Our tutor _quit_, and I've got an army of servants who probably need assistance with their mental health."

The twins sniggered at this idea.

"Do you think that's funny?" Draco snapped. "I can tell you right now that they're going to make your sister's life _hell_ for the next week or so. House elves that are disturbed in _any_ way do not serve their families well. Ginny may as well do everything herself for the next week to save her the grief of having things half-done or done incorrectly."

"It's not like Ginny can't—" Fred started.

"Have you any idea how much work it takes to keep our home clean? My wife is _pregnant_, she had a _serious_ burn on her hand, and she doesn't _deserve_ to deal with this disturbance in our lives." Draco lifted his hand to his hair and ran his fingers through his blond locks in frustration. There was simply no way to make them see what they did was wrong and would affect his household for some time.

"She was our _sister_ first," George pointed out. "Ginny's _always_ enjoyed our jokes."

"Yeah, it's not like you _cared_ before," Fred said uncharitably.

The world suddenly went an odd shape. All he could see was Fred's face as blind rage filled him and he launched himself at his mouthy brother-in-law. In the deep recesses of his brain he was screaming _'how dare you'_ and though he was sure he didn't say it aloud, he couldn't be certain he didn't snarl something to that effect at one point. His flight was cut short abruptly. Charlie wrapped him up, pinning his arms to his sides and immobilizing him more effectively than a body-bind curse.

"Easy there, big boy," Charlie whispered soothingly.

"That won't solve anything, Draco," Harry insisted quietly from right in front of him.

Draco struggled for a moment longer before going limp in Charlie's arms. "Fine," he rasped. "I'm over—"

"That was totally uncalled for," Bill growled. "I can't _believe_ you said that, Fred! You know, as well as anyone else that he didn't _know_, and you know that after all that time he _could_ have just walked away, but he _didn't_."

"I am disgusted!" Molly exclaimed in a high pitch tone that made everyone wince. "Absolutely _disgusted_! I cannot believe you would think such a thing."

"Are you right with him?" Harry asked Charlie.

"We'll be fine," Charlie assured the Auror. "You go and do what you have to."

While the rest of the family exploded around him, Draco took the opportunity to take a few calming breaths, as Charlie edged him away from the drama. He had thought they'd moved past the subject of his absence for five years, but apparently not. After all that had happened this year the comment Fred so carelessly let slip was like a slap in the face. It wasn't that he didn't understand why the family had been upset initially, but he was shocked, after all this time, some members still had an issue with him over something that he'd had no control over.

"Are you all right?"

Draco shook his head to clear his thoughts. Charlie was peering at his with concern. "Yeah… I—I didn't expect—"

"None of us did," Charlie cut in, glancing at the group surrounding the twins. He winced as Harry poked Fred in the chest. "I hope you didn't want to say anything else to them, because I think Harry's going to tear them apart."

Draco shook his head. "I thought I was calm enough to handle this, but I just—I just want—"

"To kill them?" Charlie supplied.

"In the most painful way," Draco admitted.

Charlie patted Draco's shoulder. "No need to feel bad about it."

Draco opened his mouth to refute Charlie's statement, but closed it again when he realized that he did feel bad, despite what they'd done. This revelation took him by surprise and he fell into silence again while his mind grappled with the notion.

He should feel righteously murderous without guilt, but the filthy emotion was sneaking into his consciousness. The truth, if he cared to recognize it, was that he rather enjoyed having a large family and he found that he had come to care a great deal for his in-laws.

Fred's remark had hurt, and he'd initially lashed out in anger, which he could see now was an error in judgment.

"Thank you for holding me back," Draco muttered.

"Don't mention it," Charlie replied. "Sorry I caught you so quickly. I should have let you get at least one hit in, but Mum tends to get upset when we get physical."

"I'm glad you did." Draco sighed heavily. The rest of the men were still bellowing at the twins and the twins were still defending their actions with futile excuses. "It's messy enough without resorting to Muggle dueling."

Charlie laughed, but it held no humor. "Anyone else would have wanted to belt some sense into them."

"It's not how I do things," Draco responded firmly. "I pride myself on control."

"You do realize that you reacted exactly as you should have, don't you?"

Draco frowned. If this was some elaborate test set by the Weasley brothers he was going to forget all about controlling his emotions and actions. "What?"

"Draco, your wife was hurt and your children were in danger, and you wanted to kill the people responsible — that's _normal_." Charlie shook his head at the blond. "Holding your temper and controlling your reaction isn't something that's expected, given the circumstances."

"Oh— Well, it's still not my way," Draco uttered uncertainly. "I've always been able to control—"

"There are times when control is not appropriate," Charlie assured him.

"Regardless, this is not the place to vent in that manner," Draco insisted.

"And if Mum wasn't here?" Charlie posed curiously.

"I suspect my opinion would be different," Draco admitted quietly, hoping he sounded convincing.

Whether he felt like killing the twins or not was beside the point. Such methods of retribution were not a part of who he was and he didn't feel comfortable with the reaction. He was more the type to slowly undermine their business dealings or something like that — something that wasn't quite so obvious.

"I thought so," Charlie said with a chuckle. "Like I said before, there's nothing wrong with feeling like you want to throttle them with your bare hands. If they'd done the same to me, they wouldn't be breathing right now."

Draco glanced over at the group of men a short distance away from them. Somehow, Molly had been moved to the rear of the group, not that it stopped her from adding her own comments to what was being said by her sons. Right now, Bill was bellowing in George's face. He didn't think he'd ever seen the oldest Weasley brother so worked up; a vein in the side of his neck was pulsating and his lips were pulled back, baring his teeth in some sort of vicious snarl. The sight was rather frightening, and Draco thought he'd have been heading in the opposite direction as fast as he could, if he'd been on the receiving end of that diatribe, but to George's credit, he wasn't even flinching as his oldest brother expressed his displeasure stridently. Harry's nostrils were flared in fury, and he was agreeing vehemently with everything Bill was saying.

"Are you all right?" Charlie asked cautiously. "Maybe we should—"

Draco shook his head to clear his thoughts and effective stopped his brother-in-law from continuing with a suggestion he'd most likely negate. "I'm fine. I just need this to be over."

"Okay," Charlie answered slowly. "What can we do to facilitate that?"

"I need to speak to them again," Draco replied determinedly. "Without interruption."

"And if the urge to commit murder gets too much for you?"

Draco's gray eyes met Charlie's blue ones. He was putting his trust in his brother-in-law and needed to affirm that this was the right decision. What he found was undeniable support and it gave him confidence to speak again. "Get me out of here however you have to."

Charlie nodded seriously. "If that's what you want."

He confirmed his request with a nod. "I'm afraid of what I might do if I lose control," Draco admitted in a small voice.

"Fair enough." Charlie glanced at the group of men still bellowing at the twins. "You wait here and I'll get everyone to shut up first."

"Thank you," Draco intoned genuinely as Charlie walked away.

It took mere seconds for the stocky redhead to muscle his way through the group of men and gain their attention. While the yard grew quieter, Draco did his best to gather his thoughts. Despite his best efforts, a low murmur of voices disturbed his process. He couldn't tell who was speaking or what they were saying, not that it mattered to him, because he simply had to make his point, and then he could leave.

"You don't have to do this now if you're—"

Draco turned to find Harry watching him with concern etched into his features. "I want to get it over with as soon as possible. Perhaps then I can stop feeling violent towards…" He tossed his head in the general direction of the twins.

"Well, come on then." Harry ushered Draco towards the waiting group of men.

The sound of low muttering slowly ceased as Draco moved through the group. With the exception of the twins, everyone's eyes were on him. They looked as if they expected something only he could deliver. He stopped suddenly, feeling as though the weight of the universe was on his shoulders. If he messed this up he had a feeling the repercussions would be far reaching and long lasting. His organized thoughts were suddenly caught up in a whirlwind and everything he had deemed appropriate only minutes ago now seemed absurd. As he desperately tried to regroup, beads of sweat formed on his brow and he could feel his face burning. This confusion was something he'd not experienced since he was a teenager.

A snigger from one of the twins brought reality crashing down on Draco's head and all of a sudden he owned clarity. He knew exactly what to say and how to say it to get his point across properly. With a curl of his lip he strode forward.

"Listen up carefully, because I don't want to revisit this issue _ever_ again," Draco said in a low tone. "What you did today endangered the safety of not only my home, but every living being inside it as well. Your sister has a serious burn to her hand, and I'm actually _thankful_ that she wasn't injured worse. Aside from Ginny's pain, you've caused us a great deal of inconvenience: our tutor quit on the spot and the classroom looks like a war zone. Just to top my day off, Drake received a formal warning from the Ministry about the use of underage magic."

Two loud gasps sounded behind Draco. One was definitely Molly and, if he had to guess, Percy was most likely the second.

"What?" George's eyes went wide.

"How—" Fred began.

Draco groaned. His frustration at the whole situation was building again. "It seems he stole his tutor's wand to ignite the fireworks. You two are _responsible_ for encouraging him to—"

"We didn't—"

"Never would—"

"Whether or not you told him to do that is irrelevant," Draco cut in harshly. "The reality is that he did do it, and in the way he sees all of us doing such things: with _magic_. How did you think he was going to light the fireworks? The _Muggle_ way?"

"Didn't think," George mumbled.

"That seems to be the biggest problem here, doesn't it?" Draco snarled, his temper starting to get the better of him. "You don't _ever_ think! Either of you! What if one of the children had been burned?"

"Look…" Fred glanced at his twin briefly before directing his gaze back to Draco. "We're sorry. We had no intention—"

"I didn't believe you did it intentionally," Draco butted in. "You've just got to _think_ about all the possibilities before you send those sorts of things to children. The results could have been far worse."

He watched as the twins exchanged guilty glances. Now that he was talking, his business sense was coming back to him, keeping his temper in check, and he was finding it easy to put his point across without using physical means. Not that he didn't want to make them hurt, because that feeling was still very much there, but he had control over it at the moment.

"As much as it pains me to admit it, my son has more than a hint of your type of mischief running through his veins—" Draco paused as a voice behind him interrupted his thoughts.

"Because he was such a bloody saint at school," Ron muttered just loud enough for everyone to hear.

Draco cringed and turned slightly in the direction of the voice. _Trust Ron to bring up school pranks._ "I took _calculated_ risks. Drake is not yet capable of ascertaining whether something of that nature might backfire seriously."

"Neither were you," Ron argued.

It took everything he had to keep his reaction to a mere roll of his eyes. To have entertained the comment with a verbal response would have put them off on a tangent that was not only unimportant, but detrimental to solving this situation.

"I'll leave it at that for now," Draco said calmly, as he turned back to the twins. "Contact me when you want to make your apologies and we'll arrange a time for you to come to the house."

"We can't even drop in and see our sister?" George expressed questioningly.

"Bloody nice that is," Fred claimed disgustedly.

Draco sighed and fought the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. He didn't think they were capable of taking anything seriously. "I want to be there when your sister _hexes_ you."

"To save us?" Fred asked hopefully.

"To laugh at you," Draco corrected.

"Charming," George said sarcastically.

Draco shook his head and deliberately didn't respond. If they thought they were going to crawl back into his good graces through comedy they were sadly mistaken. He turned to find Molly standing very close behind him. "Molly, please accept my apologies for bringing all this to your home. It wasn't my intention—"

Molly held up a hand to silence her son-in-law. "You're not the one who needs to apologize. Why don't I put on a pot of tea? You should have something before you head off."

"Thank you, but I really should get home to Ginny," Draco responded politely.

"She wouldn't begrudge you a cup of tea," Molly countered as she turned to walk to the house.

Unable to think of another way to refuse the offer decorously, Draco stood there helplessly watching the large woman retreat into the house.

"Would she begrudge you something a little stronger?" Bill whispered.

Draco glanced to his side and noticed a familiar bottle emerging from Bill's cloak.

"I thought we might need a little something to restore our sanity after dealing with those two," Bill explained.

"That I do need," Draco admitted.

"Let's head inside, away from this mess," Bill suggested. "Charlie, you'll finish up here?"

"No problem," Charlie answered. "Just save some for me."

"We'll try." Bill grinned cheekily at his younger brother. "Come on," he beckoned, as his hand landed on Draco's shoulder.

The comforting touch of the older man's hand didn't leave Draco until the kitchen door closed behind them.

"Don't worry about the tea, Mum," Bill said as he crossed the room, heading for the cupboard that contained an assortment of mismatched glasses.

"Bill!" Molly exclaimed disgustedly when she spied the all too familiar bottle he'd placed on the table.

"Mum!" Bill returned with a comical wave of his arm.

"I don't know why you boys have to drink every time you get together."

"It's something you taught us," Bill responded cheekily. "We just changed the beverage to something a little more enjoyable than tea."

Molly shook her head. "Just mind you don't get drunk. I'm not in the mood to—"

"Mum, it's just a quiet drink before we head home to our wives." Bill poured a generous amount of Firewhisky into two glasses. "Draco needs something a little stronger than tea after the day he's had."

Draco almost winced as his mother-in-law's eyes passed over him. He could see she was itching to say something, but she held back, thankfully.

"Get that into you," Bill insisted as he forced a glass into Draco's hand. "Don't worry about Mum; I'll sort that later," he added in a low whisper.

"Thanks," Draco muttered.

"Into the sitting room or back outside," Molly ordered. "You're _not_ cluttering up my kitchen."

Bill chuckled and casually headed for the sitting room.

Draco, not wanting to come under Molly's scrutiny again, followed at a slightly faster pace. He was beginning to wish he'd refused the invitation to have a drink, but it was too late now, especially as the delightfully tempting aroma of the Firewhisky was wafting up to tease his senses.

"Charlie will probably join us, but the rest are more likely to get back to their wives before they get themselves in trouble," Bill said as he made himself comfortable on one of the armchairs.

"Harry," Draco muttered absently, while he paced the floor, still nursing his drink.

"Yeah," Bill agreed. "He'll want a full run down from your point of view."

Draco grunted his agreement. There's no way he'd escape without giving his children's godfather a full and detailed explanation of what had transpired this morning.

"I don't think it's going to mature anymore," Bill teased, nodding his head at Draco's glass. "Sit down and relax."

"I can't," Draco admitted.

"It's finished now," Bill replied, frowning with concern. "You should be feeling relieved."

"Well, I'm not," Draco snapped.

"Maybe you should have hit one of them," Bill pondered aloud. "You know, to release some of that tension."

"That was uncalled for… I didn't mean—"

"I know. It's all right," Bill assured him. "You did better than any one of us would have."

"How's that?" Draco inquired disbelievingly.

"We would have hit them, then discussed the issue."

Draco snorted derisively.

"I'm not kidding," Bill insisted. "Sit down and enjoy your drink."

Draco perched himself on the edge of one of the chairs. The Firewhisky burned as it slid down his throat and he relished the discomfort — it gave him something else to focus on rather than the seemingly uncontrollable rage that was still simmering in his gut.

"He's still struggling," Charlie observed as he strolled in.

Bill nodded in response. "But he'll be all right."

Charlie raised his eyebrow skeptically.

"I'll be fine," Draco growled defensively. "I've just never felt like this before."

The two Weasleys exchanged knowing looks.

"The bastards _hurt_ her," Draco continued abrasively. "What am I _supposed_ to do with that? _'Don't do it again'_ just doesn't seem _enough_ of a deterrent."

"If it was just that, it wouldn't be enough to put those two off, but you showed your fury and that will adequately remind them to think twice before they do something so foolish again."

"You did really well out there," Charlie assured him as his patted Draco's shoulder.

"It doesn't _change_ anything," Draco hissed. "Ginny's still _hurt_, and I still feel like _wringing_ their bloody necks."

"And they know that now," Bill said.

"They knew that _before_," Draco spat angrily.

"Maybe, but they didn't know if you'd actually do it and now they do," Charlie explained sympathetically.

"Why can't everyone just be _normal_?" Draco muttered, mostly to himself.

Charlie laughed loudly.

"That would be really boring," Bill observed with a chuckle.

Draco's head snapped up and his gray eye's bore into his brother-in-law's amused expression. "_Boring_ would suit me perfectly. Boring is _good_!"

"Nah, boring is… Well, it's boring," Charlie corrected. "We need something to keep us on our toes."

Before he'd even made the conscious decision to do so, Draco was on his feet. "So you think your _fools_ of brothers _almost_ burning my house down and injuring my _wife_ is simply _keeping us on our toes_?"

The rage that he'd felt earlier consumed him again, and all his thoughts turned murderous once more. Much to his surprise, Charlie turned calmly and walked to the kitchen door, closing it firmly in front of a worried Molly Weasley. Frustration added fuel to Draco's anger. He wanted Charlie to argue back, to yell at him in return, so he could unload all this pent up poison.

"You think it's _fine_ just as long as it wasn't _you_ they attacked, don't you?" Draco jibed. "Neither of _you_ have to deal with the fall out of their _stupidity_, so that's just _fine_. It's just _keeping us on our toes_! How _fucking_ entertaining!"

Bill and Charlie exchanged glances, but other than that showed no emotion.

Draco glared at the two men, willing either of them or both to take a poke at him, to give him an excuse to lash out.

"You've never felt this way about a woman before have you?" Bill inquired serenely.

"_What_?" Draco stared at the man incredulously. All he wanted to do was fight and Bill was asking the most ridiculous questions — it was almost enough to make him want to hit the man.

"You love her and to know that something or someone has hurt her makes you want to seek revenge in a most irrational way," Bill said, maintaining his calm demeanor.

"Of course I _love_ her," Draco snapped, not in the least bit sorry for his tone now that Bill was prattling on about rubbish. "I just want to—I _need_ to kill them."

"Good," Charlie responded in a cheery manner. "It warms my heart every time we have that reaffirmed."

"Reaffirmed?" Draco repeated.

Charlie grinned at him. "That you love her."

The notion that this was all some elaborate set up crossed his mind again. It lingered for a few moments before he dismissed it. After all, they weren't stupid enough to stage such an event just to test his feelings for their sister when there were so many variables that were out of their control.

"Don't worry about that murderous feeling," Bill commented casually. "It will fade in time to bodily harm."

A small whimper escaped Draco's throat. "Normal… It's not too much to ask, is it?" he muttered to himself.

"Actually, now that I think about it, this is normal for us," Charlie said thoughtfully.

Draco turned towards the front door. All he wanted to do was get home to his house where normal didn't include dealing with fireworks being set off inside a home. "I should just put myself out of my misery now. That would be nice. Peaceful…"

"Leaving?" Bill interrupted his monologue.

"Home," Draco uttered. "Ginny…"

"What about Harry?" Bill reminded him. "He's going to want to know everything."

"Tell him to catch up with me later," Draco responded vaguely.

"All right, but he's going to be pissed that you didn't wait for him," Bill answered.

"Care factor…" Draco mumbled as he reached for the rarely used front door of The Burrow.

As he stumbled out into the fresh air, he could hear voices in the room he'd just left. Harry and Ron must have entered the room just as he walked out, because it was their voices he could hear over Bill and Charlie's. Though the right thing to do would have been to turn back and talk to the men, Draco kept walking forward, as if he hadn't heard them. He needed to leave the drama behind for a while, so he could arrange his thoughts into some form of workable order or he was truly going to kill someone and while it was tempting, he didn't want to harm an innocent party. With a quick half turn, Draco Disapparated, leaving the madness behind or so he hoped.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE**_

_Thanks to Rainpuddle13 for her amazing beta skills._


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